


It takes you to make my heart sing (to let air in and keep breathing)

by Lalalaartje



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Coach!Louis, Fluff and Smut, Kidfic, Light Angst, Lovely Harry, M/M, Mpreg Harry, One Night Stands, Protective Louis, Student!Harry, and their kid(s), footballer!harry, mostly H&L, the others are only mentioned a couple of times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 53,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6394462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalaartje/pseuds/Lalalaartje
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is in his senior year of high school, about to take his A-levels and move on to Uni on a football-scholarship when his life is turned upside down because of a stupid one night stand. The sex wasn't even that good.<br/>Louis is his new assistent coach who helps him through this hard time and of course, like in every universe, they fall in love.<br/>It's not easy to let someone into your life when you're a pregnant student though, and who knows if they're really here to stay.<br/>They make it work, and beautiful things come from it.</p>
<p>Sorry, I really, really suck at summaries...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Life turns it into) A different kind of fairytale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harryharryharry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryharryharry/gifts).



> Prompts I based this on:  
> During the weekend before school starts Harry (17) goes to an end of summer party. At the party he hooks up with a guy. Harry has always been the captain of his high school soccer team, being the star player, and as soon as school start so does their practices. A few weeks into having practice every night he starts to notice he's not feeling so good. He gets it checked out and finds out he is pregnant. The guy he hooked up with doesn't want to be responsible for it. Harry freaks out bc he knows he can't play on the team and get a scholarship if he is pregnant. One night his assistant coach, Mr. Tomlinson (21), asks if everything is going alright and Harry tells him. Louis is sympathetic so he and Harry start hanging out more so Louis can take care of him. Eventually they start to get feelings for each other. By the time Harry has the baby, Harry is 18 and he's moved in with Louis. Please don't include watersports or non-con.
> 
> Harry and Louis throw a baby shower. Harry starts feeling the baby coming right as the games start. They always wanted a home birth and Louis' mom is a midwife so things work out.
> 
>  
> 
> Hi love! I hope this matches with what you expected from your prompts. I made Harry a year older because my beta was more comfortable with it, and I tried to add as much feminine!Harry as I could, but I'm afraid I'm rather bad at it. I really loved writing this though, and the home birth was a wonderful thing to work towards. I hope you're at least slightly happy with what I made of it. Lots of love!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks a million to my lovely, wonderful beta [Mariana](http://fondsmileslarry.tumblr.com/) who helped me out so much with this fic, all remaining mistakes are mine and mine only.  
> Also, I can't thank the lovely [Dan from Oz ;) ](http://and-they-call-me-prideful.tumblr.com/)enough, for putting up with me, for throwing little fanfic scenes back and forth, for pulling me out of my doubts, for being there and talking things through with me. I know we've only been talking for a couple of weeks but I love you already!
> 
> Just two more, and I'll stop giving an acceptance speech worthy of the Oscar's, I swear ;)  
> Thanks to the lovely [arrow-to-my-heart](http://arrow-to-my-heart.tumblr.com/)for creating the art to accompany this story!
> 
> Thanks to the mods who threw this challenge together, it was just what I needed to get my writing back on track, thank you so much for all the work you've put into this! I started writing in the idea of writing just a short story, but this kind of ran away with me.
> 
> Since this is an mpreg story, there's a guy giving birth in there as well. I tried not to be too explicit in writing labour and birth, and I'm sorry if someone finds it to be. I suppose you could skip those parts if you were feeling uncomfortable reading it.
> 
> Title for the entire work comes from the song Leave a light on by Marble Sounds, chapter titles are quotes from the most wonderful movie Imagine Me and You. If you haven't already, watch it!

 

 

 

Leaning his back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, Harry's staring at the cheap white plastic stick in his hands. His sight is a bit blurry because of the tears he can't seem to stop, but he can still see the two bright pink lines. They're not going away, just like on the other 7 tests he took earlier that evening. How is he going to tell his mum that he ruined his last year of high school and lost all chances on getting a scholarship for uni next year? How is he going to raise a child when he himself is hardly more than that – a kid who doesn't know who he is and what he wants?

He falls asleep like that, in the middle of 8 positive pregnancy tests, one hand protectively resting on his stomach.

 

****

 

_Ten weeks prior_

 

“Hey, Liam! Are you leaving already?” Harry shouts over the loud music when he sees his best friend trying to exit the party they're at to celebrate the end of summer.

“Harry!” he laughs when he notices the inebriated state Harry's currently in. “Yeah, promised mum I'd be home at a reasonable hour since dad and I are going on a fishing trip for the weekend.”

“Ever so boring, Payne, ever so boring,” Harry winks before pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, clapping his shoulder as he leaves. Turning around to check out the crowd, seeing if there are any other friends of his left, he decides to get another beer and dance for a bit.

 

The dance floor's crowded. Under obnoxious green and red lights, Harry’s dancing amongst a handful of girls he vaguely knows from school, all of them laughing and flirting with him. He's not the world's best dancer, but he manages to move to the beat, and since he's gay, girls seem to consider him a safe person to be around when they've drunk a bit too much. Not that _he's_ very sober, but the summer ends only once every year, so he reasons he's allowed to be a bit drunk. Or a lot, whatever.

 

Julie, one of his classmates,comes dancing a bit closer to tell him they're heading outside to the pool, cool off a bit. Harry nods and waves his fingers at them, feeling like he's in a dancing vibe and not wanting to leave the dance floor just yet. He dances around for a bit, enjoying the space the girls have left to flail his arms out, until he feels someone dancing against his back.

“Hey gorgeous.” The voice murmuring into his ear is low, and Harry can smell the beer from miles away. He rolls his eyes at the obvious come-on, but figures he feels happy and free, so why not play along?

After turning around, he finds the voice belonging to Jamie, one of the school's notorious playboys, known for flirting with everyone who has legs. Usually successfully too, the swim team’s captain is a handsome guy, broad shoulders, slim waist, carefully styled chestnut hair and the face of a greek god. Harry smiles at him, automatically wraps his arms around Jamie's waist when he does the same around Harry’s shoulders.

“Thought you were off to uni?” he questions, remembering the farewell party the sports teams had thrown at the beginning of the summer, the swim team showering their champion in champagne and expensive food.

“'m leaving next month. Didn't want to miss out on the last bit of summer-fun around here,” Jamie winks at him, pulling Harry closer so he can feel his defined chest, his biceps bulging from under his short sleeved shirt. “Come on Styles, have another drink!” he adds before pulling Harry along towards the kitchen.

 

The bright lights are harsh on their eyes, and Harry has to blink against them before he’s able to see properly. There's only a few people milling about in the kitchen, but everyone's minding their own business. Two girls are heavily making out against the kitchen counter, while closer to the large window there's a small group Harry recognises as members of the student council talking as quietly as possible with the loud music filtering through from the living room. Jamie hands him a beer after uncapping the bottle on the counter and suggests they find a more quiet place to hang out.

Harry isn't dumb, he knows well enough what Jamie wants, but he _is_ rather attractive and there's nothing wrong with some fun to celebrate the end of summer, so he easily agrees and heads up the stairs with him.

 

Their search for a room ends up a giggle-fest as they're obviously not the only ones who had some sexual pleasure in mind.  Unfortunately, some of their peers hadn't thought of locking the door before going at it.

“He looked like he was fiddling with the buttons of an old radio instead of playing with her nipples,” Harry manages to bring out while shaking with laughter when they finally tumble into an empty bedroom, Jamie luckily smart enough to lock the door behind them.

“Yeah, I know, the concentrated look on his face was kind of freaky, actually.” Jamie grins, his eyes growing hungry as his eyes roam up and down Harry's body. “Fuck, Styles, you're fit.”

“Not so bad yourself, Smith,” Harry smirks, advancing towards him, pressing him up against the door and leaning in until their breaths mingle. Jamie leans in, but Harry ducks away with a small smirk on his lips, his breath hot on Jamie's ear when he whispers “Are you going to fuck me, Jamie? Will you bend me in half and make me scream in pleasure? Can you?” He feels satisfaction when he feels the older boy shiver against him, even more pleased when he presses their hips together and Jamie's obviously already hard. Harry knows what he's packing, has seen him in his speedo's at every swim competition he's been at and his mouth is watering at the idea.

“Fuck!” Jamie growls lowly before pushing against Harry's chest with both hands, moving them towards the bed until Harry's knees hit the mattress and he lets himself fall down on top of it. Jamie crawls onto his lap and kisses him hungrily, moving along as Harry shuffles backwards to the bunch of pillows at the head of the bed.

 

Jamie kisses like he swims: fast and deep. Harry allows himself to get lost in the kiss, lets himself be dominated for a while and easily lends a hand when Jamie starts pulling at the hem of his shirt. Harry’s drunk state makes him unaware of the details, it’s mostly just flashes of lust and sensations of pleasure that register, but it’s fine, it’s fun and he’s young. At some point, Jamie’s sucking and biting at his nipples and around them, Harry feels them stiffening when he blows cool air over them and he involuntarily bucks his hips up, grinding against Jamie, who lets out a small moan at the unexpected contact. It goes pretty fast from there. Jamie crawls out of bed to tug off his shirt and jeans, quickly shoving his pants down to his ankles while Harry wiggles out of his skinnies, pulling his briefs down with them.

Before he truly realises what’s going on, there’s a thick finger coated in cool lube pressing against his rim and pushing past it, making Harry shiver and moan in that precious mixture of pain and pleasure. Jamie makes quick work of prepping him, is soon up to three fingers and Harry just wants him inside, tells him as much.

 

Jamie’s loud. He moans and grunts a lot while he fucks into Harry, not all that considerate for how he feels, but Harry doesn’t mind. He knows how to relax and how to make it feel good for himself. He pulls his knees up to his chest and moans loudly when the angle is just so that Jamie hits his prostate with every other thrust. It’s good, really good actually. He can tell that Jamie’s had a lot of exercise but it looks like he’s about to come already, judging from his stuttering hips, pants and loud moans. He doesn’t look the type to make sure the other party has come as well, so Harry moves one hand from the back of his knee to his dick that’s trapped between their stomachs, tugs experimentally a couple of times before Jamie’s thrusts start getting more frantic. Harry goes for it then, strokes, twists and tugs in the way he knows a quick orgasm is guaranteed and soon enough he feels the familiar heat in the pit of his stomach. He clenches around Jamie’s dick and that’s enough to push the swimmer over the edge. Harry feels him shooting into him and it’s the last push he needed to come as well, his come smudging between their torsos when Jamie lazily kisses him for a bit.

 

The broad swimmer’s long gone when Harry’s still laying on the bed, trying to find the courage to get up and have a shower before going home. It’s when the hot water hits his back that he realises how he felt Jamie shooting _inside_ him. How he didn’t see him tying off a condom. Or putting one on, for that matter. Fuck. He’s instantly sober and scrambles out of the shower, reaching for his cell and checking his calendar. He should be safe around this time of the month though, and when he checks the strip of pills he keeps inside his wallet, he sees that for once, he managed to take all of them, so it should be fine, he figures.

The uneasy feeling settles over the next couple of days, and is pushed completely to the background when school starts up again and his attention is back on classes and football practices.

 

****

 

Harry’s practicing free kicks on their school’s muddy football field with Liam while they’re waiting for coach Henderson to arrive. He announced last week that he’d bring his new assistant coach today, the one who’d lead most of their practices and be in charge of the team in everything but name. Their last assistant coach quit his job last year because he’d been offered a coaching spot at a nearby school, and Harry hopes the new guy’s a bit more fun and less fond of having them do drills.

Coach Henderson’s arrival is announced by his loud voice calling out to assemble at centerfield. Liam picks up the ball from Harry’s last kick and joins him on his way to the white circle in the middle.. Harry’s only half listening to Liam’s rambling as they walk, something about their math’s teacher, but still manages to hum and nod in all the right places. Perks of being best friends for ages, he supposes.

He almost trips over his own feet when he notices the guy next to their coach though, and nudges Liam with his elbow. “Wow! He’s fucking fit!” he whispers, keeping his voice down as they’re now almost there and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself too much on his first practice, thank you very much. Liam just rolls his eyes at him and shuts up when they join their teammates in the circle.

“Alright, guys, as I told you last week, we’ve found ourselves a new assistant, an excellent one at that. This is Louis Tomlinson, he’ll be leading practices and gets a say in who plays which position in matches. I’ll be here for the next couple of practices, talk things through with him while you guys do what you do best: play football.”

The speech goes on for a little longer, but after about five minutes they’re finally divided in two small teams to play a sparring match in order to show Louis how they play. Harry can’t stop himself from glancing over every now and then, checking out their new assistant. He can’t be much older than 21, probably just out of uni then. His hair’s a bit wild, as if he didn’t really care to fix it before going out in the heavy wind, and his cheeks are dusted with a scruff from a couple days without shaving. His eyes are light though, probably blue, and his darker hair makes them stand out clearly under the grey skies. Definitely easy on the eyes, Harry decides.

 

After a good half hour, they’re all drenched in sweat and there’s mud up to Harry’s elbows, so he’s really, _really_ looking forward to a shower in the locker room when coach calls out to him.

“Louis, this is Harry Styles, our team captain. Apart from Liam, the goalie, he’s definitely our best player. Probably on some short lists for a scholarship this year as well.” He introduces them, Harry feeling a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

Louis sticks his hand out for him to shake, baring his teeth in a big grin. “Hi mate, ‘m Louis. Looking forward to work with you this year.”

“Hi, Harry. But you knew that,” he stutters a bit. “And yeah, same, same.”

“Uhm, listen, I won’t hold you up for long right now, you’ll cool off and the weather isn’t that great, so you should go ahead and shower. But I’d like to see you in my office soon, maybe if you’ve got a free period or anything? Or after the next practice? Whatever you prefer.” He’s got a strong Yorkshire accent and he talks about twice as fast as Harry usually does, but that’s not really that surprising. His energy is contagious though, makes Harry smile without really realising it.

“I’ve got a free period right after lunch tomorrow, if that would fit?” he suggests and watches as Louis mentally checks his own schedule before nodding enthusiastically.

“Yep, that will do, see you tomorrow then, Harry!” And then he’s off, talking quietly with coach Henderson and Harry almost forgets he was about to have a shower until a particularly cold gust of wind hits him and makes him shiver.

  


Harry drops Liam off at his classroom after lunch before heading over to the sports department himself. He knows where the offices of the coaches and the assistant coaches are, but this is the first time he’s summoned there. It’s quite easy to find Louis’ office though,  as the rest of the doors are closed while Louis’ is wide open and there’s pop music spilling out of it. When he gets closer, he can hear Louis sing along with a slight rasp to his voice. Quite a lovely voice, Harry decides. He has to knock on the open door for Louis to notice him while he seems busy with something on his laptop.

His head turns towards the door as soon as he hears Harry knocking and he’s grinning again. “Harry! Hi! Come in!” His enthusiasm hasn’t died down then. “Would you like a cuppa? I’ve just made one for myself, but there’s some hot water left in the kettle,” he gestures towards the red electric kettle on a corner of his desk while picking up his mug with the other hand.

“No, I’m fine, thanks, just had lunch actually,” Harry smiles, looking for a place to put his backpack in the rather full office.

There’s Louis’ desk, of course, filled with stacks of paper, pens, rulers, paper clips and the like, the red kettle and on the other side a sleek silver laptop. Across from his desk, there are two armchairs that look as if Louis saved them from the dump, looking worn and mismatched, but comfy nevertheless. In between them is a small side table that has had better days as well.

“You can put your coat and your backpack over there,” Louis points out, showing Harry a coat stand that had been hidden behind the open door before he invites him to sit down.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles, shuffling in his seat to get comfortable, trying to hide his nerves about this meeting. He’s not sure why Louis wanted to see him, but since he’s only just arrived at their school, it can’t be really bad, can it?

“Alright,” Louis starts, sipping his tea before putting it on the table between them. “I suppose your former assistant coach didn’t really include you or any other player in his decisions or tactics, did he?”

Harry nearly chokes on air, because, no. They were just supposed to do what they were told and most of their practices involved a lot of drills.

“Yeah, thought so, coach Henderson did look a bit strangely at me when I told him why I wanted to see you. I do think it’s important though, that you and I can work closely together and get to know each other. You know your team, I know a lot about football and tactics, so we can be complementary. We need each other if we want to get somewhere in the interschool championship.”

It makes sense though, so Harry nods and smiles tentatively at the ball of energy that is Louis Tomlinson.

“Right, there’s only so much we can discuss about the team as I don’t even know all you guy’s names yet, but maybe you and I can use this hour to do a bit of bonding? Just get to know each other a bit, you know, favourite teams and stuff like that.”

 

Harry soon discovers that it’s hard to keep Louis from talking, he talks fast and a lot, but when he asks Harry a question, he’s genuinely interested in his answer and he doesn’t rush him. He allows him time to think about his answer and the right words to put it in. By the end of Harry’s free period, he learned that Louis’ favourite team is ManU, but he also still follows the Doncaster Rovers since he played with them for three years before he went off to uni, he has five sisters and a brother, ages varying between 3 and 18 and he lives on his own but would like a dog if he were home a bit more often.

 

****

 

After the first two weeks, Louis leads practice on his own. They do minimal drills, even though they still get their mandatory rounds around the field at the beginning of every practice, and a lot of actual football playing. They’re working on tactics and technique, and the entire team loves Louis. He’s fun to be around and inspiring to work with. Their first game for the interschool championship is in two weeks, about a month and a half into the new school year,  but nobody’s really worried about it, they’re playing their absolute best. Harry still joins Louis in his office every Tuesday on his free period, and finds himself seeking Louis out whenever he thinks of something team-related. They really get along very well and Harry would almost consider Louis a friend now.

The weather has been shitty ever since school started again, and Harry blames his everlasting fatigue on that. He gets tired easily and he can’t seem to get enough sleep, especially with all the work he’s putting into his A-levels as well as practice. His mum has put him on a multivitamin for three weeks now, but he can’t say it’s made much of a difference. This last week, it’s been bad enough that he needs a nap when he comes home from school before he can start on his homework. He just hopes Louis won’t pick up on it, afraid he won’t be allowed to play. His hopes are shattered when he enters Louis’ office that Tuesday and finds Louis frowning at him.

“Are you alright?” concern laces his words, and the way he takes Harry’s coat from his hands speaks even louder.

“Uhm, yeah, sure, why?” Harry tries, forcing the corners of his mouth up. Louis moves seamlessly from the coat stand to the kettle, brewing Harry’s tea the way he knows he likes it.

“Well, I wish I knew how to put it nicely, but I think I’m going for honesty. You look like crap.” There’s a tiny smile ghosting Louis’ lips, but the concern still shines through. Harry groans.

“I’m just tired a lot, lately. ‘s Nothing bad I’m sure. Just some stupid virus that’s come along with autumn probably.”

Louis doesn’t seem convinced, but he leaves it for now, picking up where they left off the week before with their discussion of tactics and which players should get a starting position.

 

The day of the first game, Harry makes sure he can sleep for a solid 14 hours before having to go to school. It’s a home game, so luckily there’s no early rising and bus travelling involved. Anne’s in the kitchen when he wakes up, rummaging around and doing her weekly cleaning while waiting for her son so she can fix him breakfast. He kisses her cheek and grabs a gossip magazine to read and distract him from the game while Anne starts preparing his food. She’s always insisted he needs a good breakfast before a game, in order to have enough energy to survive 90 minutes of running around. Harry feels mildly sick to the stomach, but he figures it’s just nerves and not eating for a long time since he’s slept so long. After all, he does feel better when he’s eaten his breakfast and had a shower.

When he’s all done, hair dried and pulled back into a bun, Anne’s at the front door with his sports bag.

“Good luck, love, I’ll see you after the game.” she hugs him. She’ll come to watch him play, but he never has the time to talk to her before the game starts, so they have their little good luck ritual before he leaves home.

 

They win, easily, and the party they throw that night is small but a lot of fun. Louis’ there as well, not really partying along, but he’s sitting on the side, smiling at their antics and just looking very proud of his team.

  


****

 

Louis’ worried about his captain. Harry’s been tired for weeks now, and he thinks Louis hasn’t noticed, but last week while they were discussing the game they won, he was gagging at the taste of his tea. Louis tasted it afterwards and the tea was fine. Awfully sweet, but that’s apparently the way Harry likes his tea. He knows by now that Harry hasn’t got a boyfriend, but he isn’t exactly a blushing virgin either. Louis’ googled the symptoms, and however he formulates them, there’s always the same diagnosis coming up. Besides, he’s seen it far too many times with his mum to not recognise a pregnant person when he sees them pretty much every day. He’s not sure if Harry’s thought about it himself, so he should probably mention something. It’s part of his job, Louis thinks.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he hears Harry’s footsteps coming down the hall, right on time for their weekly chat. He looks pale, there are dark circles underneath his eyes and he seems awfully tired, dragging himself through the door. He does attempt a convincing smile, but falters when he sees how concerned Louis’ looking at him.

“Harry,” Louis says at the same time Harry sighs “Louis,”

Louis shoots him a stern look and makes him shut up while he continues. “I’m worried about you, you’ve not been feeling well for such a long time, this isn’t a simple autumn-virus anymore.”

“Louis, honestly, I’m fine, will be fine, it’s just that these past couple of weeks have been terribly busy, but I’m sure schoolwork will get less when Christmas arrives and…” he’s rushing his words, but still has to cut off. His eyes swerve around the room frantically before he locates the bin, quickly picking it up and emptying his stomach inside of the plastic container. “Shit, sorry,” he groans when he feels he’s done puking after a couple of seconds without retching.

Louis pulls a face at him, and mostly at the smell, but gets over it quickly, offering Harry a glass of water to get rid of the foul taste.

When he seems more or less recovered, Louis sits him down on one of the arm chairs and takes the other one himself.

“You can pretend all you want, Harry, but you’re most definitely not fine.”

Harry looks miserable, probably feels it too and resignedly shakes his head. “I know. I don’t know what’s wrong though, I can’t seem to shake it off.”

“Uhm, I think I might have an idea.” Louis softly suggests. “I think you might be pregnant, Harry.”

 

At first, Harry refuses to believe it, but deep down he knows Louis’s probably right, and a lot of crying is involved. He lets Louis take him to his car, waits for him in the passenger seat while Louis runs to the office to excuse him for his afternoon classes and drives to the drug store with him. Harry insists they take one of each brand, and the lady at the register eyes them disapprovingly when Louis pays for 8 different pregnancy tests but he dares her to say anything with a fiery look in his eyes.

  


Harry’s grateful his mum’s not home when Louis drops him off. He wants to take the tests by himself, all eight of them. Can’t stand the thought of having someone with him when he sees the results.

 

****

It’s Louis who picks him up the following morning when he leaves for school, apparently he’s been waiting outside his door for a while, not wanting to miss Harry leaving. He doesn’t have to ask, Harry’s red rimmed eyes are enough of an answer.

“Shit. I’m sorry Harry.”

He hugs him over the console as good as he can, the clutch poking into his stomach but he hardly feels it when Harry starts sobbing into his neck.

“What am I going to do, Louis? The only way I was sure of getting into uni was through football. I can’t play when I’m six months pregnant! How am I even going to go to uni when I have a baby to take care of?” he wails, trying to control the snot coming out of his nose.

Louis doesn’t even try to answer, because there isn’t an easy answer to Harry’s questions and doubts, nothing’s ever easy when a baby is involved, especially not when it's dad is only 18 and still in school.

“Shhh, it’s okay, love, let it out,” he mutters, rubbing his hand across Harry’s back while he waits for him to calm down.

About five minutes later, Harry seems to regain some control over his crying and sits back up, still sniffling and wiping his eyes and nose on the back of his hands.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I’ve probably gotten snot all over you.”

“It’s fine, I’ve got third years for PE on the second period, should probably shower after that anyway,” he smiles gently, reaching across Harry’s lap to grab a box of tissues from the glove compartment. “Here.”

A small grateful smile pulls on Harry’s lips as he pulls out a couple of tissues to dry his eyes and blow his nose. He probably looks as bad as he feels, and if his mum wouldn’t come home in an hour or so, he’d consider calling in sick at school. She’s only got half a shift at work though, and he doesn’t want to explain it to her just yet. Needs to be more comfortable with it himself before he tells her she’ll be a grandmother soon.

“Harry?” He realises then that Louis had been saying something but he’s missed it completely.

“Hmmm? Yeah?”

“Who’s your doctor, love?”

Harry’s eyes go wide almost comically. “No, no, no, Louis, I can’t go to my GP with this. My mum’ll have to know I’ve gone to see him and just…” his breath hitches, “I can’t tell her yet.”

Louis reaches over to grab his frantically gesturing hand in his. “Shhh, it’s alright. Have you ever seen an obstetrician, or was your GP the one to prescribe your birth control?”

 

They end up driving to school and arriving late for Harry’s first period anyway, so Louis goes to excuse him at the student’s office and makes him settle in one of his armchairs while he calls his mum to ask if she knows any good midwives or obstetricians around Holmes Chapel. They end up with a list of five people to call, and they’re lucky on the third call. Dropping his mum’s name a couple of times made the secretary on the other side squeeze in an appointment for the next day. Louis will cover for Harry once more, and he hasn’t got any class to teach at the time of their appointment, so he’ll even be able to come along.

 

****

 

Liam was apparently worried sick about him, or so he says when Harry shows up for third period. He pulls him into a hug and doesn’t let him go for what feels like five minutes, until their French teacher clears her throat. Liam blushes slightly, excuses himself in his best French and sits down at the desk next to Harry’s. He gets out his books and a notepad, quickly scribbling a note to Harry that he unsubtly shoves towards him while their teacher turns around to write something down on the blackboard.

 

_Are you alrite???_

Harry rolls his eyes at his best friend, but takes out his pencil to write down his reply anyway.

_Yeah, bit under the weather, will be fine._

He shoves it under Liam’s book and then hurries to copy the notes miss Grey’s making on the blackboard while Liam pens down yet another reply.

_Okay, good. McDo 2nite?_

  


He actually feels better after school, the uneasy feeling he’s had all day’s finally gone, and he’s really hungry too. He hasn’t been able to eat much for lunch, feeling queasy at the smell of all food that was for sale in the school’s cafeteria so he ended up nibbling on some rice crackers instead. Luckily Liam’s and his lunch break weren’t at the same time and Niall was too busy retelling some football match in the Irish competition to notice.

Liam _does_ watch him like a hawk while they're at McDonalds though, but seems pleased with Harry’s order and even more so with the fact that he devours it all, practically inhales it. It’s confusing, Harry thinks. One moment he can’t stand the idea of food, the next he’s looking everywhere for anything edible to put in his mouth. When Liam drops him off at home, he actually feels good for the first time in weeks, he’s had a good night out with his best friend, his stomach isn’t acting up and the tiredness isn’t as overwhelming as usual.

“Hello darling,” his mum greets him from where she’s watching her favourite soap series on the couch. “You feel better today?”

It was probably a long shot to hope that his mum never noticed, but as soon as she asked, he remembers what he hasn’t told her yet. Remembers the appointment tomorrow and what news it will most certainly bring.

“Uhm, yeah, ‘m alright. Bit tired though, been a long day,” he rambles, forcing a smile on his face before kissing her cheek and wishing her good night. He doesn’t notice the worried look in her eyes when she watches him go upstairs, Dusty running around his feet as she always seems to do these days.

  


****

 

“Mr. Styles?” Harry jumps up from his seat when he hears his name. Louis follows behind him when he finds the source of the melodic voice. Ayleen is a young, joyful looking woman with a big head of black curls and a friendly smile when she shakes his hand. “Come on through.”

They talk for a bit about the pregnancy, how far along he should be, if he’s still taking birth control (he isn’t, quit it as soon as he realised he was pregnant and didn’t even take it for a while before, because he thought that was what made him feel sick and tired), what he expects from a pregnancy and so on. Ayleen is as friendly as she looks, and she makes sure Harry feels at ease with her, which he appreciates, even through how nervous he is. He feels almost calm when she takes them to the next room, Louis still feeling a bit out of place, but Harry did insist he should come along because he was too scared to do this on his own. The sonographist working in their association is a man in his early forties, Harry thinks, and just as kind as Ayleen herself. He introduces himself as Jack and asks him to lay down on the bed before he explains what he’s about to do. Ayleen stays with them for just this once, wanting to know how far along exactly he is and most of all wanting to make sure everything is alright.

 

Harry thought he was prepared for this. He had somehow accepted his faith, knew he was pregnant and that he would have to deal with it. He knew he was going to see his baby.

Yet, nothing could have prepared him for the image he got to see a couple of seconds after the probe touched the cold gel that had been squirted onto his stomach.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, tearing up when he realised what he was looking at. His baby was right there, in black and white. He or she was moving quite enthusiastically around Harry’s womb, and very recognisable as a baby. For some reason, Harry thought he would see a blur, maybe a blur with a flickering heart, but this is truly a baby. Two arms, two legs, a round tummy and a big head, and around it’s center, there’s definitely a flicker of a heartbeat.

“Let’s have a listen, shall we,” Jack smiles, looking touched at Harry’s reaction. Right after that, there’s a loud galloping heartbeat filling the examination room, along with some graphics on the screen underneath the picture. “That sounds absolutely perfect, Harry, seems like you’ve got a healthy baby in there. I’m just gonna take some measurements and then we’re done here,” Jack announces before he stills the image and starts moving the cursor around.

Harry’s still dazed when Ayleen takes them back to her own office, hardly notices Louis’ hand on the small of his back.

 

“Alright, Harry,” she says, looking up from what she was scribbling down in her file. “Looks like you and your boyfriend can expect this little one halfway through May, the ultrasound indicates you’re 12 weeks and 3 days along right now.”

“Oh, uhm, I’m not his boyfriend,” Louis stutters, feeling himself blush when he realises he never actually introduced himself apart from his name. “I’m Harry’s-”

“Friend!” Harry jumps in, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of Ayleen thinking he’d brought his football coach.

“Friend, yeah.” Louis nods, tentatively smiling.

“Well, Harry’s lucky to have such a good friend, then,” Ayleen supplies. “Am I right to say that the father is out of the picture then, Harry?”

He nods, gaze fixed on how his hands are somehow still clasped on top of his still flat stomach.

“Okay, that’s alright, no judgement from me here. It’s just important for me to know who the people you can count on for support are. Pregnancy isn’t always easy, and teenage pregnancy even less so. Do your parents know?”

He shakes his head, quickly looking up when he answers. “No, my dad doesn’t live with us anymore, don’t see him very often. Haven’t told my mum yet. Or my sister. Reckon I should tell them soon since I probably will start showing one of the coming weeks.” His voice starts shaking when he thinks about telling his mother how much of a failure he is and he gratefully leans into Louis’ shoulder when he pulls him closer.

Ayleen tells him a bit more about what to expect in the next couple of weeks and what he should and shouldn’t do before she lets him go with an appointment in four weeks.

 

Harry’s a mess, really. He’s scared shitless to bring his mum the news, yet again he’s happy the baby seems alright and most of all madly in love with it. He doesn’t even understand how it’s possible to love something you don’t even know yet this much, yet it is happening. He gets through the rest of his classes in  haze, the ultrasound picture seemingly burning a hole in his pocket.

“Hey Haz!” Liam yells from the other side of the hallway when Harry’s putting his books away in his locker to go change into his kit for football practice. Liam’s sporting a frown and a little out of breath when he arrives at Harry’s locker. “Are you okay? Niall said you missed two periods because of a doctor’s appointment? I thought you said you were feeling better yesterday? Are you sick? Oh my god, you’re sick, aren’t you? Is it cancer? Oh god Harry, I can’t lose you, you’re my best friend!”

Harry’s too overwhelmed by Liam’s rambling to react until he hears the word cancer. Seriously, Liam needs to take a break.

“Liam! Shut up! I’m not sick, it was just… a check up. It’s a temporary condition and I should be feeling better soon. Stop worrying.” He feels bad for not telling the truth to his best mate, but he can’t really tell him before his mum, so he figures Liam’ll have to wait a little longer. He looks Harry up and down with a wary look, making him self conscious about the idea of having a bit of a bump (though he knows there’s nothing there, he checked in the bathroom earlier) but seems to be satisfied with Harry’s answer. He wraps an arm around his shoulder and drags him along to the changing rooms, talking about whatever Harry’s missed by not talking to him for an entire day. Sometimes, Harry thinks Liam’s secretly Gossip Girl.

 

“Come on guys, hurry up, ‘m not gonna wait for your lazy arses on that field all day!” Louis shouts through the open door to the locker room. He’s met with some chuckles and some grumbling, but a couple of minutes, everyone’s run past him towards the football field. Harry’s too busy to notice Louis’ widening eyes and the raise of his eyebrows when he runs past, spurring Niall on for a game of penalties between them. He’s abruptly pulled out of it when Louis calls him. “Harry! A word, please!” He looks all but happy, and both Niall and Liam tease that he’s in for some severe punishment. He sticks his tongue out at them before jogging over to where Louis’ trying to disentangle the pile of pennies that had been left behind the week before.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He asks, not knowing what he has done to make Louis this pissed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hisses, fury in his eyes as he turns to face Harry.

“Uhm? Practice for our game next week?”

“Hell no, you’re not. You don’t think I’m letting you play in your condition, do you?”

“Louis! Will you shut up! I don’t want anyone to know yet!” Harry growls. “And besides, there’s no reason why I couldn’t play. You heard Ayleen, the baby’s still behind my pubic bone, it’s completely safe,” he adds, fixing Louis with a challenging glare.

“Safe or not, you’re not playing. Not today, not next week. Not under my watch.” Louis retorts.

“Loui-” Harry starts, but he’s immediately cut off.

“That’s final, Harry. You can either stay or go shower and go home, I don’t care, but you’re not playing.”

“You’re being fucking unfair, Louis. Everyone’s going to ask questions now. I’m not ready for that,” he whispers across the growing distance now Louis is walking towards the rest of the team.

“Stay or go home, Harry, your choice.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaargh!” Harry screams, throwing a punch against the locker room door before pulling it open to go change. There’s no way he’s going to stay at practice when Louis won’t let him play, he’ll deal with the questions later on.

  


“Harry? You’re home early! Thought you had practice?” his mum asks from behind the kitchen counter when she hears him come through the door. “I haven’t started on dinner yet, Gemma’s not coming home for dinner and I didn’t expect you for at least another hour…”

“It’s fine mum. I had practice, but Louis wouldn’t let me play,” he grumbles without thinking properly.

“What? Why? You’re captain, aren’t you? I thought you and Louis got along really well?” Anne wipes her hands on a dish towel and joins him in the living room where Harry’s crouching down to scratch Dusty behind her ears. The cat really seems glued to him lately, he wonders if it has anything to do with pregnancy hormones. He looks up to her face and realises he’s gotten himself into trouble. How is he going to explain this?

He takes a deep breath and decides to go for it. “Mum, can we, like, sit down for a bit?” he asks, biting his bottom lip while waiting for her answer. She frowns and worry flashes behind her eyes.

“Yes, of course, but baby, are you alright?”

Anne sits down in the middle seat of the sofa and Harry takes the armchair across from her, it takes a while before he knows how to start, only getting Anne more worried that there’s something seriously wrong. In the end, he just reaches inside his pocket and pulls out the ultrasound picture, handing it over without words.

 

The next few moments seem to last hours, Anne’s holding the picture in her hands and seems to study it closely before she looks up to him.

“Baby, is this… are you? Are you pregnant?”

She doesn’t seem mad, or even disappointed, but Harry can’t help bursting into tears anyway. “I’m so sorry, mum,” he sobs, hiding his face in his hands. She rushes over to sit next to him, on the arm of his chair and pulls him into her shoulder.

“Oh, Harry… baby, you don’t have to be sorry. How long’ve you known?”

“Couple of days. Louis was able to get me an appointment with a midwife yesterday,” he hackles between sniffing and sobbing.

“Oh, so that’s why you were feeling so poorly, I should’ve known…” Anne mutters. “Oh love, I’m so sorry you had to go to that appointment on your own, that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

“Louis actually came along,” Harry whispers. “He was the only one who knew, and now he goes and forbids me to play football. I can’t even play the game next week.”

Anne hums. “And you’re mad at him for that.”

“Yeah! I mean, I trust him with this and he uses it against me, it’s so fucking unfair!”

“Language, love,” she scolds him half heartedly, almost as an automatic response. “I get why you’re mad, but I also understand where Louis comes from. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, or the baby.”

“But I wouldn’t, mum, and how am I ever going to get into uni if I can’t play anymore?” he whines, running his hand through Dusty’s fur when the cat jumps into his lap.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, love. Dusty’s been very interested in you these days huh?” Anne notices, her hand petting the grey cat as well.

“Yeah, she can’t seem to leave me alone, she seeks me out as soon as I walk through the door. Always mewling outside my door when I go to bed as well. She’s been sleeping on my feet for weeks now.”

“Hmmm, I remember how our Misty did the same thing when I was pregnant with Gemma. She was the first who knew you were on the way as well. Cats seem to be more accurate than any pregnancy test,” Anne smiles softly.

They end up talking for an hour or so, his mum telling him about her pregnancies, and dreaming about the baby he’s carrying right now. It was terrifying to tell her, but now that his mum knows and is supportive, he feels so much better already.

When Anne gets up to cook their dinner, Harry settles down on the couch, only now realising how tired he is. He falls asleep within minutes and dreams of toddlers calling him dad while they play in a beautiful garden. He wakes up from his slumber to his mum talking to someone at the door.

“He’s alright, Liam, I promise. I appreciate you coming by, but he’s asleep and he really needs his rest.”

He can’t understand Liam’s reply, and is battling with himself for a while whether to get up and invite Liam in or stay put and close his eyes again. It seems like his mum is having a really hard time reassuring him though, so in the end he does get up.

“Harry!” Liam’s the first to spot him, and apparently seeing him walking and breathing is already enough to calm his nerves.

“Hey Li, come in, I’m sure mum’s made plenty of food for dinner, so you can join us if you like.”

Anne fixes him with a questioning look, which he answers with a tiny nod. “Sure, Liam, be sure to call Maura though, wouldn’t want her waiting with your dinner and worrying about you,” she quips with an overly happy voice.

 

He tells Liam right after he’s sent a text to his mother, and luckily before he’s taken a bite of Anne’s lasagne. He chokes on air when he hears it, so Harry doesn’t want to imagine how it would’ve gone if there’d been food in his mouth.

There’s questions of course, the obligatory who-when-how etc etc, but it’s alright. Both his mum and Liam respect that he doesn’t want to talk about some of the details, however they both make it very clear that they think the father should know about his child and take his responsibility. Harry doesn’t share that sentiment though. He doesn’t even _like_ Jamie, let alone wants himself connected to him for the rest of his - and his kid’s - life. He’ll do just fine on his own, somehow. He’s got his mum, and his friends he can count on.

 

****

 

Lots of credits for Niall though. Harry tells him during lunch on Friday, and he doesn’t even blink. Harry would’ve waited for his mouth to be empty for a couple of minutes, but with Niall during lunch break, that’s just mission impossible. He simply nods, mumbles an “okay,” and continues eating. It’s several minutes later when he questions if that’s why he had a row with Louis. Liam hadn’t even thought about it, but both Harry’s friends are furious at their coach and it takes Harry a lot of persuasion and even some blackmailing (free food and godfather might be words that were used) to stop them from getting up and finding Louis to tell him where it’s at.

 

He doesn’t even bother staying after school for football practice, Louis won’t let him play anyway, and he’s not in the mood to face him. His evening gets a lot better when his mum’s home early from work and she insists on taking him late night shopping for clothes and baby-stuff. He solely blames his pregnancy hormones (those things are evil!) for tearing up when setting foot in any baby store. It’s just that everything is so cute and he can’t imagine having such a small creature of his own in just a couple of months. It’s equal amounts wonderful and scary. Or maybe just a bit more scary, if he comes to think about it. Anne seems to be in a happy grandmother modus though, as she’s planning how to put the baby’s furniture in Harry’s rather small bedroom, and persuades Harry to let her order a baby football jersey in his school’s colours with his number and “baby Styles” on the back.

 

****

 

Harry manages to avoid Louis for almost two weeks. He skips practice, goes to see the game -they win- but doesn’t hang around before or after, and simply doesn’t show for their weekly meetings in Louis’ office. He’s still angry, and even though he can now understand why Louis was so strict about not playing, he still thinks he went about it the wrong way. He should’ve told him in private and beforehand, not during practice where the entire team could hear them.

 

It’s a Thursday night and he’s on the phone with Gemma who demands her daily bump update now that she’s away for her internship while microwaving his dinner when the doorbell sounds.

“Hold on Gems, there’s someone at the door, probably some Jehova’s witness, gonna send them off.” Gemma chuckles but doesn’t stop babbling about her colleagues who are apparently as enthusiastic about her nephew (Gemma insists it’s a boy) as she is.

He’s mid-reply when he opens the door and chokes on his next word. Louis’ in front of his door, and he looks guilty. Beautiful, and guilty. Anxious, maybe even.

When Harry realises it’s Louis and he really doesn’t want to talk to him, he goes to close the door, but it’s too late. Louis’ hand stops the door before it can shut and his voice trickles from behind the thick door.

“Please Harry, can I come in? I’d like to talk… explain why I acted the way I did.”

Gemma is screeching in his ear, wanting to know what’s wrong, why he isn’t replying anymore. He answers right before she’s about to hang up to alarm the police, thinking he opened the door to an attacker or something.

“Gems, I’m alright. I’ll have to go though, alright? I’m gonna call you back later tonight.” He doesn’t even wait for her reply, just hangs up and pockets his phone before running his hand through his hair and checks his reflection in the mirror above the heater.

He opens the door, ignores the relieved look on Louis’ face and lets him in. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. No more. And I’m not letting my food cool down for you, so we’ll have to sit in the kitchen.”

Another thing that his hormones are responsible for. He’s hardly ever nauseous anymore, but he can eat all day and Anne knows by now to double his usual portion when she cooks. Louis quietly follows him inside and only sits down when Harry tells him so. He looks a lot less sure of himself than before when he stopped Harry from closing the door.

“Are you still going to talk or are you going to waste your fifteen minutes staring at me while I eat?” Harry asks him when he still hasn’t said anything after three bites.

“Sorry, yeah, sorry. I just… Look Harry, I wanted to apologise. I shouldn’t have sent you away from practice the way I did. We should’ve discussed it beforehand, and since we didn’t, I should’ve let you play for that one practice because it wasn’t fair of me to forbid you or to just tell you in front of your team mates.”

He looks up at Harry, he _does_ look like he’s sorry, and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever seen Louis so quiet and timid.

“Alright,” Harry nods after a heavy silence. “Thanks.”

Louis’ lips curl up in a small smile, he’s obviously relieved now that’s said. Harry’s “Was that all?” makes his smile crumble faster than lightning.

“Uhm, actually, I was wondering if you'd still like to come to practice? I mean, I still feel the same way about having you play, but I do think you’d be good for the team to have around. You’ve got a good insight in the players and the way you all best work together.”

Harry’s stopped shoveling pasta into his mouth and watches Louis struggle through his words. “I’ll think about it,” he finally says.

“Okay, thanks. That’s all I can ask,” Louis nods with a small smile. “I’ll be off then, leave you to it.” He grabs his messenger bag off the floor and stands to get back into the hallway while Harry battles himself over letting him out or keep eating. His manners win in the end. Once outside, Louis turns around once more. “Thanks for hearing me out. And for thinking about coming back to practice. I’d love to have you there.” He sounds sincere more than anything else and the smile Harry feels tugging at his lips seems to encourage Louis. “Still welcome on Tuesdays as well, of course,” he adds and lets his eyes wander down Harry’s body to rest on his non-existent bump. “Are you- is the pregnancy- Is the baby alright? Been thinking about it over the past weeks,” he mutters, carefully keeping his voice down to avoid any neighbours or passersby overhearing their conversation.

Harry fully smiles at that, always does when the baby’s mentioned nowadays. “I’ve been feeling loads better, yeah, it’s like Ayleen predicted. Not as nauseous anymore, and got some of my energy back. I’ll be glad if I get to go back though, at least when I felt like shit, I knew it was because of the baby. Now I can’t stop worrying if I’m feeling better because something is wrong.” It’s like he can’t stop himself from blurting it all out, but Louis doesn't seem fazed.

“I’m sure everything will be fine in two weeks. See you later Harry.” He smiles genuinely and takes off with a small wave.

 

Harry goes back to practice after that, every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, Fridays too if they have a game that weekend, and he’s in Louis’ office every Tuesday after lunch. They discuss tactics and analyse games and practice matches together. Louis insists that Harry’s a valuable addition to their team, even when he’s not playing, and Harry finds that he enjoys being on the coaching side of football more than he could ever have imagined.

 

There’s gossiping going around at school, of course, but both Niall and Liam act like his personal bodyguards and defend Harry to everyone who talks negatively about him. Harry deals with curious people coming to talk to him for a few weeks, but the interest dies down soon as they seem to realise there’s no visible bump, let alone kicks to feel.

 

His visits with Ayleen only get better. The first time is only with her, and although Harry would’ve loved to see the baby again on a sonogram, he’s happy enough when she finds the heartbeat and the steady thump-thump-thump fills the entire room. The way Anne grips his hand shows him she feels the same way. He’s a bit disappointed that there’s still no sign of a bump, but Ayleen tells him that will change soon enough. He’s got strong abs because of his regular working out, so it’s only logical that it takes a while for the baby to show itself.

 

Sure enough, when he goes back at twenty weeks - already halfway there! -, he’s no longer able to fit into his regular jeans and even other people can see the bump when he wears tight T-shirts and they pay attention. Ayleen compliments him on it and he glows at her words. It’s the week before Christmas, and Gemma’s brought him back the most obnoxious Christmas jumper with a pregnant Santa, a sonogram picture of an elf showing on his bump. Jack jokes about it when he asks Harry to lift it for him, and explains how the sonogram will take quite a while as this week’s the time for a structural ultrasound. He’ll check all the baby’s organs, see if they seem to work like they should and Harry can find out their gender if he likes to know.

It’s something he’s discussed thoroughly with Anne and Gemma but also with Liam and Niall. In the end, Harry decided he doesn't want to know. He’d rather be surprised when the baby’s born, and tells everyone who wants to hear it that he doesn't want to subject his child to gender stereotypes before it’s even born. He doesn't get the chance to tell Jack why exactly he chooses not to know the gender though, because as soon as he places his ultrasound wand on Harry's stomach, he’s entranced with what he sees. The baby nearly fills the entire screen now, and is happily moving about. In fact, it’s giving Jack a pretty hard time doing his job as it hardly ever lies still. Jack still manages to get all necessary measurements that tell them that the baby's growth is perfectly on schedule and then goes to check the detailed anatomy. Harry thinks it’s amazing to see how every organ is already there and most of them even functioning. There's the kidneys, the liver, stomach, intestines, lungs, and then the most magical of all; the baby’s heart. Jack explains how it has 4 different compartments, with a valve separating all of them. He shows the fluttering valves and how blue and red flares indicate the blood flow. He assures both him and Anne that the baby looks perfectly healthy before checking on the placenta and the umbilical cord as a last thing and then sends them back to Ayleen. If everything goes as planned, they’ll get to see the baby through sonogram one last time at 28 weeks before it’s born.

 

The fact they’re on winter break doesn't stop Liam and Niall from coming over to hear the latest baby news from Harry in person. They’re only a little bit disappointed to discover that the blue of Harry’s nailpolish has nothing to do with the baby being a boy, and that’s soon forgotten when they get to watch the ultrasound video. Niall’s still convinced he saw a penis on there somewhere though, but Harry just rolls his eyes at him.

 

The bump’s growing at a pretty spectacular rate these days, Harry can truly see a difference each day, and when Louis comes over to check on his “favourite unborn” as he’s started to call the baby, he gushes over Harry’s grown belly for an hour after having not seen him for a week.

 

Where at first it was a bit tense between them, Harry and Louis have gotten rather close over the last couple of weeks. They spend a lot of time together during practice, and they often meet up after school as well, when they find their weekly hour on Tuesday not sufficient. Louis drops Harry off at least twice a week, and is never able to decline Anne’s invitation to stay over for dinner when she's home. He’s even become such a regular guest in the Styles household that Anne leaves dinner out for three when she’s working on practice days, and Gemma doesn't even bother changing out of her bathrobe when she’s already taken a shower when they come home.

 

“Hey Tomlinson, are you staying for dinner? We’re ordering pizza tonight,” she asks casually when she crosses the living room where they're watching the ultrasound video for the third time. Harry simply can't get enough, and Louis keeps saying it’s such a beautiful baby.

“Yeah, if you two don’t mind. I’ll drive over to pick them up, they offer a discount if you don’t let them deliver, I discovered last week.”

Gemma just hums approvingly before picking up her phone in the kitchen to place their order through the application on it. Both Gemma and Louis tease Harry about his terrible taste in pizza toppings (honestly, who combines pineapple with chicken and curry?) but he plays the pregnancy card and that makes them shut up in two seconds. Sometimes he just loves being pregnant.

 

Gemma’s taken her pizza upstairs to her room with an excuse about school work but Harry suspects she's got a boyfriend she’s skyping with. He can’t seem to stay still, feels nervous and on edge. He hardly realises he’s been tapping his foot until Louis stills his leg with a hand on his knee.

“Couldn’t hear the TV,” he jokes, but frowns when Harry can only manage a forced smile. “Is everything alright Haz?”

 

Harry startles. “Yeah, no… yeah.”

“Okay?”

He sighs. “It’s just, I’ve been thinking. Jamie, the guy who got me pregnant, is in town for winter break. He doesn't know about the baby, obviously, as he’s been away to uni and I don’t think he’d suspect it to be his anyway. But now I’m not sure if I should tell him.”

Louis hums to indicate he's listening, and Harry takes it as the encouragement it is to keep talking. “I mean, I’ve always thought he doesn't need to know. He’s gone off to uni and I’ll hardly ever see him. I don’t even like him to be honest, so I’m not sure if I want him in our lives. But then again, it seems weird to not tell him as well. Because he _will_ find out about the baby, this is a small town after all, and what if he finds out that the baby’s actually his later on?”

“That _would_ be weird,” Louis agrees. “I get the feeling you’ve already decided what to do, haven’t you? “

“Yeah. I suppose. I think I’m going over to his tomorrow afternoon. I don't expect anything from him, but just… it feels right to tell him that I’m expecting his baby.”

He settles down after that, feeling much calmer now that he’s been able to talk about it with someone. They watch some movie on Netflix, Louis’ made them popcorn and they cuddle up close, limbs twisted together on the couch. It’s only when Harry can’t stop himself from yawning that Louis heads home, leaving Harry with a hug and grateful for finding such a supportive and good friend.

  


****

 

The next day, Louis’ busying himself with doing his laundry and packing his bags for his trip home. His family has a rather strong holiday tradition that starts with his birthday on Christmas Eve and goes all the way to boxing day. It’s three days filled with joy, happiness, family and lots of delicious food his mum slaves over for at least a week up front. He’s been Christmas shopping the week before, but he still has to wrap his presents before he can pack them. Waiting to do so until he’s home is hopeless, they would never even make it under the Christmas tree. Checking the time he sends a good luck text to Harry before grabbing himself a sandwich and taking out the wrapping paper. He prides himself on his gift wrapping abilities and always makes his presents into small works of art, each one accompanied by a personal message written on the cheesiest cards he could find.

He’s almost through his pile of gifts - there’s always a lot of them since he’s got such a large family - when his doorbell goes. He’s not expecting anyone, but it's not that unusual for any of his friends to stop by when they know he’s at home, so he abandons his gifts and goes to answer the door, mentally checking if there's still beer left in the fridge.

He’s quite sure he’ll find either Nick or Zayn on the landing, bored of holiday preparations and in search of beer or just some company. He doesn't expect Harry on his doorstep, eyes red rimmed and looking like he’s five seconds away from crying. Fuck. He takes it didn't go down very well with that Jamie-guy.

“Harry? Come in love, come on, you’ll catch a cold.” It’s as if the boy only now realises he’s only wearing a thin jumper, shivering as Louis pulls him inside. Louis knows he’s always warm these days, they often joke about the baby being his built-in heater, but it’s freezing out there and it's at least a twenty minute walk from Harry's house to Louis’. Louis installs Harry on the couch first, his movements measured and calm to try and put Harry a bit more at ease before he walks into his tiny kitchen to make them tea.

Harry seems to have recovered a bit when Louis hands him his mug, his cheeks and fingertips an angry red from the sudden warmth. Louis can’t help but let his gaze linger on his belly under the blanket Louis’ tucked him in. It’s getting more pronounced every day and he thinks Harry carries it beautifully. He glows. Even now, when he still looks awfully close to tears.

“I take it didn't go well with Jamie?” The simple question is all it takes to reduce Harry to a blubbering mess. Louis doesn't understand all of it, but he doesn't need to. He pulls Harry into an embrace and listens to him, catching bits and pieces that indicate that Jamie first accused Harry of being a slut, then asked if he could still have an abortion and lastly thought Harry wanted his money. He doesn't even know the guy but he’s still furious at him. He doesn't understand how anyone could treat such a lovely boy like that, let alone insult his unborn baby. Louis just pulls Harry impossibly closer, consoling him while waiting until he’s calmed down a bit. He strokes his back and mutters all kind of senseless sweet things until finally Harry pulls back, wiping at his eyes in a futile attempt to dry his tears.

“Sorry,” he hiccups. “I’m such an emotional mess these days, stupid hormones. And also sorry for barging in on you, you were probably busy.”

“It’s alright, just wrapping Christmas presents. Besides, you and your hormones are always welcome here, you know that!” he teases lightly.

Harry can’t help the chuckle escaping, reaching out to pick up his tea, pulling a face when he realises It’s gone cold.

“I’ll fix us a new cuppa, come on,” Louis takes the mug from him and stands up to get into the kitchen. Harry trails behind him, leaning against the fridge while watching Louis making their tea.

“I’m sorry he was an asshole about the baby, love.”

Harry shrugs. “I dunno why I expected anything else. I never liked him for a reason.”

“Still, you didn't deserve any of this.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiles timidly.

Louis hesitates. “You’re not alone in this, you know that, right?” he finally asks.

“Yeah, my mum and Gemma, and Liam and Niall of course, they’ve got my back.”

Louis doesn't quite understand the sinking feeling in his chest or the lump in his throat he has to swallow when he hears that. It’s not like they’re such good friends, they’ve only known each other for a couple of months, he tells himself before forcing his smile. Of course Harry wouldn't mention him as someone who has his back. It all makes perfect sense.

“Hey, what were you doing before I came to disturb you?” Harry asks after taking his tea from Louis.

“Just wrapping my Christmas presents, ‘m trying to get my packing done ahead of time this year,” Louis smirks.

“Oh yeah, I didn't think about it, but of course you’re going home for Christmas, ” Harry replies, looking over the presents that are still waiting to be wrapped and picking up the box of building blocks Louis bought for his youngest sister.

“Oh I had those when I was a kid! I loved playing with them! My mum probably put them in the basement somewhere, she’s been bringing up all kinds of baby toys from there as well. My room will be filled to the brim if she keeps it up,” he rolls his eyes.

“The baby’s sleeping with you then?”

“Hmmm, we don’t have a spare bedroom, and I think I’d like them close to me at night, it’d be weird to carry them so close for nine months and then move them across the hall.”

Louis smiles at that. “Yeah, it makes sense. My mum put the youngest twins in their cribs next to her bed for a couple of weeks as well. Until I left for uni, then they got my room.”

“Oh, poor thing!” Harry teases. “They’re making you sleep on the couch for Christmas?”

Louis shrugs, moving to sit down on the couch and folding his legs under him. “I’m used to it. Doesn't bother me really. And Lottie will probably have me sleeping in her room on my birthday so they can boobie trap the living room before I’m up.”

“Hold on,” Harry exclaims, a surprised expression on his face “your birthday? You never told me it’s your birthday soon! Now I don’t even got you a present!”

Louis blushes at that. “You don’t need to get me a present. Everyone always showers me with gifts at home because they feel sorry for me that my birthday’s on the 24th.”

“On Christmas Eve? A true Christmas miracle you are!” he chuckles. “It’s sweet that they don’t want you to feel forgotten because of the Christmas madness though. How long are you going home for?”

“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow and I think I’ll stay for about a week. Ten days maybe. Depends when the others are going back to work and spending time with their friends.”

Their conversation flows towards plans for New Year's Eve next, Harry intending to stay in since he can’t drink and most parties are only about booze and who you’ll be kissing at midnight. Louis hasn't really made any plans yet, but suspects his friends will come up with something.

When he leaves, it’s with an extra jumper that’s too short at the sleeves and stretches ridiculously over his belly,  but Harry’s almost forgotten why he came to find Louis in the first place. He refuses a lift home because he kind of wants to check out some of shops on his way home to see if he can find a suitable present for Louis’ birthday.

 

****

 

“Hello? This is Louis’s wife, you should honestly all leave him alone, he’s mine and mine only!”

Harry’s taken aback when he attempts to call Louis on his birthday, shortly before noon. The girl answering definitely sounds too young to be anyone’s wife, and the idea of Louis with a woman is laughable enough to begin with, but it’s still a bit weird.

“Phoebe! Give me my phone!” he hears in the background next. “What did you say this time?” The girl giggles but there’s rustling of the phone being handed over at the other side of the line. “Hello? Sorry, that was one of my evil sisters, who’s this?” Louis’ voice comes through, slightly out of breath.

Harry giggles. “Happy birthday Lou, it’s me. Or well, us.”

“Harry! Hi! Thanks for calling! Sorry about Phoebe, my sisters have this running joke where they steal my phone every year on my birthday and prank everyone calling me. I hope it wasn’t too traumatising.”

“It was fine, can’t say I really believed that she was your jealous wife anyway.”

Louis groans. “Oh that one again. Three years ago they almost caused my boyfriend to break up with me because of that. Should’ve seen it as a sign he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed early on.”

Banter goes back and forth for a bit until Louis persuades Harry to sing him happy birthday and makes him promise to skype after dinner to show how much his bump has grown. Harry mentions how everyone has somehow picked up Gemma’s nickname for the baby, so now the poor thing is stuck with Frodo until it’s born.

Louis’ mum calls him over next, so they quickly say their goodbyes before they both go back to their respective festivities.

 

Louis is a bit drunk when his phone buzzes with a Skype request. He excuses himself from where he’s folded up in the middle of a mountain of Tomlinson siblings on the living room floor and quickly sends Harry a text to let him know he’s on his way to his laptop.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii,” Harry drawls when his face finally appears on the screen. “Happy birthday again, though it’s almost over!”

“Thanks!” Louis grins and it's hard not to notice how he's slightly slowed in his movement and reaction times.

“Oh, you’re a drunk birthday boy!” Harry observes, causing Louis to stick his tongue out at the computer.

“Show me Frodo!” he whines and Harry groans, he’d hoped that at least Louis wouldn't join in on Gemma’s antics. He complies though, stepping away from his computer to make sure his belly visible on screen and pulling his shirt even tighter across it than it already is.

Louis gushes over it for a good five minutes before their conversation starts drifting in other directions, discussing their dinner and the gifts Louis got for his birthday and Harry for Christmas.

“Oh!” Harry suddenly exclaims, his hand moving from where he was toying with a curl that escaped from the scarf that’s tied around his head as a hairband to rest on his stomach. It’s yet another pregnancy thing, his hair seems to be growing super fast and it’s very thick and curlier than ever.

“What’s going on? Are you hurt? Call Gemma or your mum, you should get checked out if you're in pain. You heard what Ayleen said that first time, better once too many than not soon enough.”

“Huh?” Harry’s a bit dazed when he looks up. “Oh! No, no, I’m not hurt! It’s just, I felt the baby kick me.” He smiles happily. “I mean, I’ve felt these tiny little plops before, but I thought it was gas. But this, this was definitely a kick. A small one, but a kick.”

Louis’ surprised he’s not been reduced to a puddle of goo in front of Fizzy’s desk when he hears it.

“Oh my god, Haz! That’s amazing! And on Christmas Eve, it’s magical! Well done Frodo!”

They wrap up the call soon after that, Louis’ siblings insisting he should come back downstairs and watch the rest of the movie with him and Harry craving a second helping of dessert.

 

****

 

Harry’s not proud to admit he’s been counting down the days until Louis’ back in town. He’s just so _bored_ with his friends involved in their own holiday celebrations and Gemma studying for her exams or writing papers all day. He’s taken up playing tag with Frodo (it was always just a matter of time before he too started calling the baby that) but even that gets boring after a bit, or Frodo will simply refuse to play along.

On Boxing day he spends half his day online shopping. He'd originally planned to go to the mall with Anne and Gemma, but his back hurts and he’s scared of the mass, afraid the baby might somehow get hurt. Besides, it gives him something to look forward to for the next couple of days. There’s always a package for him in the mail, be it the crib he ordered, or some super tiny clothes he couldn't resist. He’s lucky to still have a lot of savings from when he had a weekend job at the bakery but he probably should start watching his expenses more closely.

His daily call with Louis is always the best time of his day. Some days it’s only five minutes because everyone seems to want to make most of Louis’ stay in Doncaster, yet it never feels rushed or as if Louis doesn't think it’s worth the trouble. The day before his return, Louis tells him off for trying to assemble Frodo’s crib and changing table all by himself while everyone else was out, especially because he’s been complaining of back aches and sore muscles ever since Christmas day. Louis told him he’d be back the next day, but it’s still a bit of a surprise when the chime of the doorbell announces his arrival.

Harry’s sick of lying about, so despite the frost and the drizzling rain, they decide to bundle up and go for a walk in the meadows behind Harry’s house. The cold feels nice on his face, seems to wake him up from a long slumber and he revels in how easily Louis and him work together. It feels a bit domestic, Harry thinks, they only miss a dog to complete the idyllic picture. They never run out of topics to discuss, and it’s nice how their shoulders bump, hands brushing against each other every ten yards.

Once they're back inside, Louis makes them hot chocolate to drink while exchanging presents (a pale green silk scarf for Harry’s hair tie collection and a soft blue jumper that’s a bit too big on his frame for Louis who always steals Harry’s jumpers anyway). It’s dark when Louis decides it’s time to head home and get his laundry done, so Harry walks him to the front door where they’re wrapping up their conversation when Harry’s eyes widen.

“Give me your hand, quick!” They’ve been trying all afternoon to coax Frodo into kicking without result, but now they’re kicking away like a proper footballer. Harry grabs Louis’ hand in his and quickly puts it on top of his belly. It takes a couple of seconds but then… there it is! Louis’ eyes widen almost comically and Harry grins, glad to see Louis can obviously feel it too.

Louis’ eyes look extra shiny when he looks up from his hand to Harry’s face, he sounds a bit choked up as well.

“That's just… wow!”

“So eloquent,” Harry teases, but it sounds more fond than there’s bite to it.

“Thank you,” Louis whispers and he leans in, pressing a dry kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth and then quickly turning around and leaving before Harry properly realises he’s gone. His fingers reach up to his mouth, touching where only moments before, Louis’ lips had been.

 

After that weird semi-kiss, as Harry’s calling it in his head, comes a good day and a half of radio silence. Harry's not sure what to say or text Louis, uncertain of what he had meant with his kiss. He misses Louis though, even if he’s not sure himself what he wants the kiss to be. When he lies awake the next night, he realises that he’s been pushing his feelings down for a while now. He knows the butterflies he gets in his stomach when Louis’ around aren’t because of the baby. He likes Louis. A lot. He loves cuddling with him, he loves how he feels a shiver running up his spine when they accidentally touch, he loves hearing the sound of his voice over the phone. He’s more than a little bit screwed, it seems. He’s falling in love with Louis.

 

****

 

Louis’ been feeling on edge ever since he left Harry’s house two days before. Both Nick and Zayn are fed up with him, threatening to leave their New Year’s Eve party preparations. They’ve apparently decided that Louis’ hosting their dinner, it’s just them and their dates and after they’ll go clubbing, so Louis doesn’t really mind. Especially since they’re preparing dinner together anyway.

“Louis, please, just call your boy and get this over with! You’re driving me nuts!” Nick finally yells at him, throwing down the carrot he’d been peeling. Nick and Louis, they go way back. They grew up together, realised they were gay around the same time and had the almost obligatory relationship as they were the only gays in school but quickly realised they didn’t like each other exactly that way. They’re still friends though, and since Nick moved to Manchester for his job around the same time Louis moved to Holmes Chapel, they see each other almost every other week.

“He’s not my boy, Grimshaw!” Louis protests, but both Nick and Zayn fix him with a pointed stare. “He’s not,” he weakly repeats.

Zayn sighs, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Still, you obviously miss him, and it’s not even been two days. Call him. Invite him for dinner. Nick and I will even promise to play nice.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to talk to me? If he thinks it was really weird and inappropriate to kiss him the way I did? What if he’s mad at me?”

“You won’t know if you don’t call him, come on, go on Lou.” Zayn’s the voice of reason within their small cluster of friends. Louis met him the night he moved in, at the cereal aisle of Tesco’s, and they just hitted it off. He’s been dating the same girl on and off for a few years now and he’s extremely laid back about it. When he first met Nick, they just all clicked into place, the three of them. It’s nice, Louis thinks, having old and new friends in the same group like this.

He knows Zayn’s right. He almost always is, it’s so annoying. “Fine,” he sighs, picking up his phone from where it lay on the counter so he could see all notifications coming in, should it be that Harry texted him.

 

The first call goes to voicemail, but Louis makes himself redial, biting his bottom lip while listening to the dial tone.

“Hello?” Harry sounds a little out of breath, and Louis feels his own breath hitch at finally hearing Harry again. “Hello?” There’s rustling on the other side and then “Louis? Are you there?”

Louis’s shaken out of his stupor and clears his throat. “Hi, yeah, ‘m here, sorry, was a bit out of it.”

“Okay. Sorry I didn’t pick up the first time you called, I was in the shower.” Harry apologises.

“I miss you,” Louis blurts out

“Oh.” Harry doesn’t sound angry, just a bit surprised at Louis’ confession.

“Listen, you probably have plans for tonight, but if not, I’d like you to come to dinner with me? Well, me and my friends Nick and Zayn, actually, and their dates. They’re nice, I promise. We’re having roast beef but I could make you something else, anything you’d like, really, because I know you can’t have raw meat.” He’s rambling but he doesn’t know how to stop himself, scared that Harry might say he won’t come, that he hasn’t missed him at all.

“I have no plans. I’d like to come,” Harry interrupts.

“Really?” Louis sounds so squeaky and surprised that Harry lets out a chuckle.

“Yes, really. What time do you expect me?”

“I’ll come and pick you up so you don’t have to walk over here. At five?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Should I dress up fancy?”

“Not too fancy, it’s not that we’ll be in suit and tie or anything. Just casual chic.”

“Noted. See you tonight.”

“Yeah, see you tonight,” Louis breathes.

“And Louis?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you too.” Harry hangs up after that, leaving Louis breathless and with a stomach filled with annoying butterflies. He won’t be able to eat if he already reacts this way to a phone call.

 

Louis has both Nick and Zayn be the judges of his outfit, and Zayn does his hair. In the end, they both assure him he looks absolutely edible in his black tight jeans and blue button up, his hair a work of art with a quiff instead of his usual soft fringe. They all leave at the same time to go and pick up their dates, planning to be back at Louis’ flat an hour later. He’s nervous as hell, isn’t sure if Harry thinks of their evening as a date or not, though he sure hopes he does, and if he’ll have to courage to kiss him at midnight.

Snowflakes are few and far between when he gets into his car, but the heavy wind is blowing them against his windshield anyway, the wipers moving back and forth furiously in an attempt to keep a clear view. When he arrives at Harry’s house, there’s a group of carolers walking out of the driveway, Anne standing in the doorway to see them off. He waves at her when she spots him crawl out of the car and the smile she sends him reminds him of Harry’s.

“Hello, Louis! Good to see you again, it’s been a while. Harry said you’ve come over earlier this week when I was with my sister in Manchester.” They exchange two kisses and wish each other merry Christmas even though it’s a week late. “Harry’s upstairs in his room,” she tells him as she invites him in, closing the door behind him. “Think he’s a bit nervous,” Anne stage-whispers. Louis blushes a bit at her comment, but is saved from having to say anything when Gemma’s head appears on top of the stairs. “Hiiiii!” she chimes, and then yells “Haz, it _is_ him. Decide on your shirt already, will you?” The ice is efficiently broken at that, and as Gemma disappears back upstairs, Anne leads him into the kitchen where she offers him a cup of tea. It takes Harry a cup and a half and a lot of chatter between Louis and Anne to finally come downstairs. He’s pulling the hem of his shirt as if he’s not sure if it was a good choice, but Louis’ breath is taken away regardlessly.

Harry’s wearing stone washed skinny paternity jeans combined with a flowy sheer white shirt that’s unbuttoned halfway down his chest, accentuating the curve of his belly. The pale green headscarf Louis gave him for Christmas is wrapped around his head in an artsy way to keep his long curls in check.

“Hi,” Harry breathes, and Louis has to swallow the lump in his throat before he can answer properly.

“Hey. You look… absolutely wonderful,” he manages to bring out. “The both of you.”

Harry smiles at that. “You look alright as well, I guess,” he replies coyly, but unable to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Shall we go then? Zayn and Nick should be back at my place in a bit, though I fully expect them to be late, as usual.”

Harry nods and tries to ignore the pride his mother is radiating when Louis puts his hand on the small of his back to guide him to the front door. Something that proves to be rather easy because of his heart obviously trying to escape from his chest.

“Hey, Tomlinson!” Gemma calls from the stairs. “I know where you live,” she threatens while moving her fingers from her eyes to point at Louis, in a “I’m watching you”-gesture.

Harry rolls his eyes at her over protective antics but smiles secretly when he sees Louis nod solemnly. It’s cute, he thinks.

 

As predicted, neither Zayn or Nick have arrived when they get back to Louis’, giving them some time to relax and get back to their normal selves. It’s obvious enough that they both consider it a date, but that realisation has somehow taken away their usual spontaneity and banter. “It’s alright if you drink alcohol, you know,” Harry reminds him when Louis pours them both a mixed fruit juice.

“Nah, ‘s alright. Don't want to get drunk, not risking forgetting anything, especially with how lovely you look tonight.” Louis always was and always is flirty, but never so obvious and never so direct. It makes Harry flush and feel hot despite the icy weather. “Besides, I’m driving you home tonight and I don’t drink and drive.

“Thanks,” Harry smiles softly while taking a seat on the couch. They’re shaken up by the doorbell, and a couple of minutes later Louis comes back with two of the prettiest people Harry’s ever seen. They introduce themselves as Zayn and Perrie, and Harry's original worry that he’d feel left out because of his age disappears immediately when Perrie sits down next to him and starts talking about his pregnancy. Harry’s happy to indulge her, patiently answers her questions and hides his smile by biting his lip when he realises she really wants to touch but she’s too polite to ask him. He’ll just torture her for a bit longer, he decides.

Louis has just topped up his glass when the doorbell goes again, and as quiet as Perrie and Zayn had been, as loud is their next guest.

Nick is indeed loud and brash, but him and Harry hit it off immediately, finding each other in their similar quirky sense of humor. Matt, his date-but-not-boyfriend, as they both insist, is calmer but just as friendly as everyone else is being towards Harry. Nobody even bats an eye when Louis squeezes himself between Harry and the armrest en gently kisses his cheek as he puts an arm around his waist. Harry’s heart is still beating in overdrive though, it feels like everyone can see it through his ribs. The baby gets restless because of it too, apparently tossing and turning about as it kicks at a different spot every other minute. Harry thinks it’s lovely to watch how Louis’ smile grows every time he catches one of the kicks beneath his hand, even if he’s talking to his friends in the meantime.

While the rest of them have roast beef with veggies and baked potatoes, Louis has grilled him some chicken, knowing that he not only can’t eat any undercooked meat, he also gets a little nauseous from red meat. It’s a fun party, there’s a lot of talking and funny stories are shared along with a few embarrassing ones from when Louis and Nick grew up together. Everyone is steadily drinking and at least tipsy by now, while Louis still hasn't touched any alcohol. Harry’s flattered by it, knowing that if he wasn’t there, he would definitely drink along with his friends.

Their meal is finished long before it’s even close to midnight and they bring out some board games to kill time before going outside to watch the fireworks in the neighbourhood. Harry wins at Scrabble, simply because the others are too inebriated to form proper words and he suspects Louis lets him. His cheeks never stop burning though, the firm press of Louis’ thigh against his under the table a constant reminder that they are on a date tonight. He loves it, preens under the attention, the soft touches and words of the man he only knows for such a short time but has already wormed his way into his life and into his heart.

When Nick gets up to put away the box of Scrabble, Harry follows Louis into the kitchen, carrying some glasses to put in the dishwasher before they head out.

“Alright?” Louis asks, smiling up at him as he pulls the tray out.

“Hmmm, yeah,” Harry nods, handing him the glasses first and then some pieces of cutlery that’ve been left on the counter. “Only a bit tired, ‘m not used to staying up this late anymore. Frodo here steals all my energy so I’m not usually up after half ten,” he points at his stomach.

“I’ll take you home right after the fireworks,” Louis solemnly promises, “the lot of them will be heading out to the clubs then anyway.”

“It’s alright Lou, I’ll survive. Yes, I’m tired, but I can sleep in tomorrow and I have another two weeks left before school starts again.”

Louis gets up again and moves to stand in front of him as he pushes the dishwasher closed with his foot. “If you’re sure.” His brow is pinched together in a frown and Harry has to resist the urge to kiss it away. _Too intimate._ Instead he lifts a hand to push a stray hair that escaped Louis’ quiff out of his face. Louis blushes at the touch and Harry can’t stop a dimpled smile. “I’m sure.”

He then notices the clock on the microwave oven and chases Louis out of the kitchen so they can put on their coats and scarves to go outside.

 

It appears that the entire neighbourhood has come out. It’s Louis’ first New Year’s Eve in his flat, so he hadn’t known what to expect when he saw the announcement for the neighbourhood’s fireworks and celebrations in the shop window at the bakery down the street. This is definitely better than expected. There’s a bonfire going on at the end of the street, next to it is a stall that sells drinks, everything from soda to schnaps and everyone is gathering around the fire with drinks in hands, waiting for midnight. They all walk over, arms slung around the shoulders and waist of their respective date and buy themselves a drink before joining the crowd. Louis recognises some of his neighbours and the girl who works at the bakery on Saturdays, as well as the guy who works at Tesco’s and always flirts with him at checkout. He greets them with a smile and a nod before they all turn towards the other end of the street where a giant clock will guide the countdown and the fireworks will be shot.

It’s only a minute or two until the talking ceases and everyone’s attention is drawn towards the clock, getting ready to count down into 2014.

“Ten, nine, eight,” the first few counts are chaotic and not entirely synchronised, but everyone seems to catch up towards the end, “five, four, three, two, one! Happy new year!” There’s cheering all around them, and out of the corner of his eyes, Louis can see the fireworks have started, but all he has eye for is the boy next to him. The way his green eyes light up as the fire reflects in them, the curls that are trying to escape his headscarf, the uncertain, bashful smile on his full lips as his teeth worry his bottom lip. “Happy new year, Harry,” he whispers before leaning in. Slowly, to make sure Harry understands what he’s about to do and to give him the chance to deny him the kiss, but he never does, instead leans in himself until their lips touch lightly. Their mouths rub against each other dryly until Harry opens his just a tiny bit, enough to add some moist to it as they softly kiss. Louis’ hands come up to rest at Harry’s waist, gently rounding his stomach while Harry puts his on the small of Louis’ back. They break apart after a bit, not paying attention to anything happening around them as they press their foreheads together. “Happy new year, Lou.” Harry sighs, feeling elated and peaceful at the same time.

Louis is reminded of the place they’re at by the ooo's and ahh's when a particularly beautiful piece of firework explodes in the air, and he moves his hand from Harry’s waist, letting his fingers tangle with Harry’s as they look up at the sky. The fireworks are almost over, and when the last of the smoke has dissolved into the crisp winter air, the small group heads back towards Louis’ flat. Louis can see Zayn’s pleased little smile aimed at him, but he ignores him in favour of swinging his and Harry’s hand together between them. He’s sure he’ll hear about it tomorrow, or maybe the day after, taking Zayn’s more than probable hangover into consideration, but he couldn’t care less. They wait for the über taking everyone but Louis and Harry into the city in front of Louis’ door, cheerily wishing any passers-by a happy new year. When the car finally arrives, hugs are exchanged, one sloppier than the other. Nick whispers some profanities into Louis’ neck, while Zayn simply congratulates him on the first conquest of the year. All the while, Perrie’s being an emotional drunk over Frodo and has to be physically pulled into the car by Zayn and Matt before she actually leaves, all hesitation to touch long forgotten. They wave them off, laughing at the others’ antics as the car drives down the street until they’re met with relative silence.

“So,” they both start, chuckling when they realise it. “Should I drive you home?” Louis continues, “I mean, not that you’re not welcome in my flat anymore, but I just thought you’d be tired.. It’s been a long night.”

“I am,” Harry smiles, “I’d love to say I want to come up and have another drink, but I really am dead on my feet by now, so yes, a ride home would be lovely.”

 

It’s as if their kiss has caused their world to tilt on its axis, the car ride mostly silent apart from the soft hum of the radio, though not entirely uncomfortable.

“We’re here,” Louis announces as he pulls up the driveway of Harry’s house.

“I know,” Harry cheekily replies, glancing out of the window to see the lights are still on inside. When he turns back to Louis, he’s biting his lip. “Can I kiss you again?” he finally asks, and Harry can only nod, angling their mouths together over the console. Louis’ lips feel even softer than before and their mouths already seem to work together on muscle memory, even if it’s only the second time they kiss. It makes for a fluttering feeling in his stomach that’s for once not Frodo’s doing, though the latter seems to be enthusiastic over tonight’s turn of events as well.

It takes a lot not to take their kiss further, but Harry keeps reminding himself that his mum and sister are probably watching them from the window, thinking they’re being sneaky by hiding behind the curtains. He pulls back and their lips separate with a soft pop. “Good night, Lou, I had a great night.”

“Good night, Harry, me too,” Louis smiles. “And goodnight to you too, Frodo,” he adds on, quickly rubbing Harry’s stomach.

Harry chuckles at that and removes his seatbelt, rolling his eyes when he indeed sees the curtain moving as his family hastily ducks away from the window.

“Call tomorrow?” Louis questions.

“Sure,” Harry nods, opening the door and getting out of the car. He sends Louis a final wave before letting himself in the house, bracing himself for the confrontation with his family.

 

“Is he a good kisser?” Gemma shrieks at the same time as Anne sighs “my baby’s got a boyfriend.” Which, wow, _what_?

“Okay, Gemma, ‘m not the type to kiss and tell, and mum, we’re no such thing. We went on a date, we kissed, that’s it. Maybe we’re dating, but we’re definitely not boyfriends.”

“Yet!” Gemma adds with a face splitting grin.

“Shut up, you lot. I’m going to bed. Frodo needs me to rest.”

And with that, he trudges up the stairs, quietly grateful that Frodo’s giving him enough of an excuse to be left alone.

 

****

  


Harry’s still feeling elated by the events of the previous night when he wakes up on New Year’s Day. He doesn’t want to talk to Gemma about it, she would only tease him mercilessly, and Liam would worry about Louis taking advantage of him and what not. So that leaves Niall. He’s in Ireland to celebrate the holidays with his family and apparently his cellphone reception is shitty over there, so Harry texts him and follows it up with a Whatsapp message to ask him when they can call. He’s pretty sure Niall’s still asleep and hungover anytime before noon and is therefore surprised when he gets a Skype request only half an hour after he sent the message.

“Happy New Year Hazzaaaaaaaaaah!” Niall shouts as soon as their call connects, and okay, not hungover, but probably still drunk.

Harry laughs at his antics. “Happy New Year, Nialler,” comes his fond reply.

“What’s up? Did Gemma invite her loverboy over for dinner yesterday and did you kill him for molesting your sister?”

“What!? No! Gemma still won’t admit she even _has_ a boyfriend, let alone we get to see him. No, in fact Louis called me yesterday to invite me to the dinner party at his place. As his date.”

“Woooooooooooooh Harry! Way to go bro! I had no idea you guys had snapped out of the awkward flirting stage!” Niall shouts enthusiastically.

“Niall! Keep it down, will you? Besides, what awkward flirting stage? We weren’t flirting _that_ much!”

“Oh yes you were. Jesus, Harry, you two can hardly look at each other without blushing, it’s uncomfortable to watch sometimes.”

“Shut up.”

“But we’re overlooking some important details here! So, a date, on New Year’s Eve, how did it go?” Niall asks, seemingly calming down a bit and settling down on a chair.

Harry sighs dreamily. “Wonderful, actually. I mean, he had friends over as well, obviously, but they were all so kind and lovely and even though they were all older and you know, properly educated, they never made me feel uncomfortable or left out.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, and it didn’t hurt that they were all really beautiful too,” he giggles, earning him an eye roll from Niall.

“I swear, Hazza, you and your hormones. Your sex drive is sky high.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Hey, I’m serious here, it was bad before you got pregnant, but that was just teenage boy-bad, this is on a whole new level!”

“Okay, okay, I suppose you’re right,” Harry concedes, remembering how many times in the past few weeks he just _had_ to get some privacy to get off because he was afraid he’d burst if he didn’t.

“But what about Louis? Did you kiss? I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve, it’s the perfect excuse.”

“We did, yeah, and it was so lovely Niall, fuck…” Harry answers, biting his lip.

“Hey now,” Nialls shuffles a bit closer to the screen. “Hey, Hazza, why are you crying all of a sudden?”

“Sorry, it’s those damn mood swings,” Harry sniffles. “It’s just, he’s a really good kisser, and I liked kissing him. I like him, if that wasn’t obvious yet.”

“Pretty much,” Niall shrugs.

“I just… I’m so scared that I’m falling too fast, Niall, it’s what I always do. I like someone, they like me back, we kiss and before I know it I’m head over heels. I can’t do that now, not with Frodo on the way.”

“Hazza, baby, stop worrying, okay? Yes, you tend to fall hard and fast, god knows how many times Liam and I had to pick you up when some asshole decided to play you. But this, I can tell this is different, Hazza. Does that make sense? I can see the way Louis is looking at you when he thinks we don’t notice it at practice. At the very least, he cares about you. But to be completely honest, I think the guy’s bloody well on his way to falling in love with you as well.”

“You really think so?”

“I do, Harry. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

“Okay. Thanks for listening, Nialler.”

“You’re welcome, Hazza. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drink some more to make sure the hangover doesn’t come too soon!”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks, so are you, byeeeeee!” Niall cheerily waves before disconnecting, leaving Harry a little less stressed out and wondering if Niall’s right about what Louis feels for him.

 

****

 

The first week of the new year is filled with phone calls every day, even if they saw each other earlier that day or will see each other in the evening. Louis still comes over whenever Harry asks him to and he’s not busy and half the time when he has to be at home to do some work or when he has friends coming over, Harry’s there as well. It’s not much different from what it was before, only they kiss now, and none of them is against that.

They’re at Louis’ flat on Thursday night, Louis’ working a bit for school, preparing lesson plans while complaining about them (“I just don’t understand why a PE lesson needs a lesson plan. It’s basketball, just basketball. Why do I need to write out every single technique I’m going to teach them and how?”) and Harry’s looking through netflix, trying to find a new series to binge watch. He’s a bit bored with the holidays, Liam’s gone on a skiing trip and Niall’s still in Ireland with his family. It’s not that he doesn’t have any other friends to hang out with, but they’re all busy with their mock exams that will start at the end of January. Louis first encouraged him to take them, but he can’t bring himself to do so. He won’t be at school when A-levels are taken and he doesn’t see the point in preparing for something he won’t do.

Not that he minds spending most of his time with Louis, but well… he doesn’t want Louis to get sick of him. Especially when he obviously has other things to do.

He sighs and is about to tell Louis as much, that he’ll go home instead of be a bother here, when he flops on the couch beside him, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Alright, curly?” he asks, smiling up at him sweetly before pressing a kiss to his stomach and then another one to his cheek. “‘m sorry I’ve been so busy, just want to get this over with before school and practice starts up again or it’ll become night work and I hate that.”

“Lou, you don’t have to apologise for doing your work. In fact, I feel like I should…” Harry starts, only to be cut off by Louis as he sits up right.

“Hey, I know, I’ll make it up to you. How about I make dinner reservations for tomorrow at that little Italian restaurant across the park? Zayn’s been there with Perry a couple of times, says it’s really nice.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds nice, but I’m not sure… I mean, I’ve been trying to watch my expenses a bit, I‘m not sure if I can afford such a restaurant right now Lou.”

“Oh, no no no, Harry, of course you wouldn’t have to pay, I’m the one asking _you_ out!”

Oh. _Oh!_ “On a date, you mean?” Harry asks, a bit shell shocked at the realisation.

“Yes, on a date,” Louis chuckles before paling slightly. “Wait, that’s okay, right? I mean, I thought we’d be doing that, since… well… the kiss last week, and the others ever since…”

“It’s… Yeah, of course it’s okay, it’s just that I’ve never given much thought to it. Are you sure you’re okay paying for it though? I mean, Nando's would be alright with me too.”

“Don’t be silly Haz,” and oh, that’s new, “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to pay for you. I’ll just call them right now.”

  


Louis managed to book their very last table apparently, as there isn’t a free table left in the entire restaurant. It still feels cosy though, and not as if they’re one out of many. Their waiter’s nice and the food is delicious yet not overpriced. They’ve just been brought their tea when Louis starts fidgeting in his seat. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up, surprised that Harry even noticed, but well, it’s hard not to notice how Louis’ playing with the sugar cubes while he doesn’t even take sugar in his tea.

“It’s just… I wanted to discuss something?”

“Okay?”

“Just hear me out, alright Haz, I know you’ll want to interfere, but just, hear me out first.”

Harry frowns at that, not sure if he’ll like what Louis has to say. Is he going to break up with him? Is that even possible though, if they’re only on their second date? He’s shaken out of it when Louis starts talking again.

“Look, I know it’s early, I mean, this is our first official date, if we don’t count New Year’s Eve, and we’ve only first kissed last week, but I really, _really_ like you Haz. And I feel like, with the baby on the way, we shouldn’t waste time. I mean, it’s only four months until your due date, I want to be there for you, all the way. So, what I’m going on about, is, if you maybe feel the same way about me, we could maybe, like, be boyfriends? If you’re okay with it since it’s only early on.”

Harry swallows, his thoughts running miles an hour and not sure how to word everything that’s going around in his head. “I- shit Louis, I don’t know what to say to this.”

Louis’ face falls, and all Harry wants is to make it right again, but he can’t. He has to think about himself, about the baby. He has to be sure before he says yes. “I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I could just say yes and make you as happy as you deserve to be. Can I just- can I think about this? Only a couple of days, I promise.”

“Sure,” Louis nods, visibly swallowing and forcing a smile in the hopes of disguising his watery eyes.

“Hey,” Harry reaches out to grab his hand across the table, “I do like you, Louis, it’s just, this is going a lot faster than I imagined, it’s a lot to digest at once. I want to be sure before I say yes.”

“I understand, really, I do.” Louis nods with a forced smile on his face, but their conversation falls flat after that. Louis asks for the check and pays for their dinner before driving Harry home. They share a short kiss before Harry gets out of the car, but it feels nothing like their usual kisses, and the smiles they exchange feel fake.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes when he leans against the front door after shutting it behind him.

He’s home alone, Anne working the night shift for the weekend and Gemma’s probably out with friends. He goes up to bed and tries to sleep, but it’s not working very well. He keeps thinking about Louis and the question he’s asked. Gemma comes to check on him when she gets home and wordlessly climbs into bed next to him, pulling him close to her chest.

His dreams are still terrifying, but at least he manages to get some rest. Gemma wakes him up the next morning with a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich, asking if he wants to talk about it, but when he shakes his head she leaves him to it with a kiss to the head.

The morning is spent wondering if Louis would call him, or if he should call Louis, but he still hasn’t made a decision when Liam comes by around three in the afternoon. He’s just come back from his holiday and seeing the millions of bored messages of Harry from the last week, he’d wanted to come visit. Liam talks enough about skiing and the pretty girls he met at the après-ski  to make sure Harry doesn’t have to say much, so he doesn’t even mention how him and Louis have kissed and definitely doesn’t talk about the boyfriend-bomb Louis dropped just yesterday. It helps to take his mind of it all, but when Liam leaves for dinner, nothing much has changed. His head is still all Louis and what to do about the question he’s asked.

His mum gives him a worried look over dinner, but he forces a smile and she doesn’t push it any further. He goes to bed early, as soon as Anne’s out of the door, but despite how tired he is, he’s still tossing and turning hours later, when he hears Gemma stumble into her room. She’s rummaging around in her room for a while, but then her bed creaks slightly when she settles in. Harry hesitates for a bit, but finally gets up, gathering his blanket and trudges to his sisters room.

“Gems?”

“Hey Harry, can’t sleep?”

“No, keep tossing and turning, and Frodo keeps me up as well.”

“Come ‘ere, get in.”

He smiles gratefully and slips under the covers next to his sister who scoots closer to the wall to accommodate him and his stomach.

“Why the restlessness?” she questions once it’s clear that he won't say anything himself.

Harry sighs, considers playing it down and stew a bit further on his own, but before he’s even reached a decision, he blurts out “Louis asked me to be his boyfriend.” Ah well, that's out in the open at least.

“And? You like him, right? Or have I been seeing ghosts these last couple of months?”

Another sigh. “No ghosts, I mean, yeah, I like him. A lot, if I’m being honest.”

“You should always be honest with your sister!” Gemma jokes good naturedly. “But if you do, then what’s the matter H?”

“I’m pregnant, Gemma!” he almost shouts exasperatedly. “That’s what’s the fucking matter!”

“Uhm, yes, I might’ve picked up on that little fact, you know, with the protruding belly and the kicks I keep feeling whenever I hug you. Does he ever stop, by the way? I think I’ll have bruises on my stomach tomorrow.”

Harry hides his chuckle in the crook of her neck but then rapidly turns serious again. “It’s not just about me anymore, Gemma. How can I start a relationship with someone when in less than five months I’ll have a baby? I can’t expect my boyfriend to take on a baby that’s not even born yet, can I? And I mean, if he does, what will happen if we don’t work out? I can’t let him be an important person in Frodo’s life and then boom, he’s gone.”

“H, calm down, will you?” her hands tangle in his hair, twisting the curls between her fingers. “First of all, I’m pretty sure Louis knows there’s a baby in here,” one of her hands come down to prod his stomach. “And so, I assume he still wants to have a relationship with you when you become a dad in a few months.”

“But he doesn't even know Frodo! What if they cry all the time or become a total brat when they’re older? I mean, it’s my baby, I have to love him and I’m pretty sure I will, but it’s not Louis’.”

“So you think he’ll take off when he decides playing family with you isn’t his cup of tea.”

And yeah, now that she puts it like that, it’s exactly what he’s scared of. What’s keeping him from jumping in Louis’ arms and kissing him senseless. He nods and sniffles in an attempt to hide his crying.

“Oh, Harry, come here love,” she pulls him closer and mutters things he doesn't quite understand until he manages to stop the tears. “First of all, Louis isn’t our dad. Dad wasn't man enough to stay and deal with it, decided he’d rather be a weekend and holidays kind of father, if he even does that much, but that doesn't mean Louis would do the same!  And sure, maybe you break up and he’ll walk out of your life. It might happen, it will hurt if it happens and adding a kid to the equation will make it more difficult to deal with. But maybe you two will work out, maybe you’ll get married and have twenty more kids he’ll love as much as our Frodo. You won’t know it if you don't try it. Do you really want to waste a chance on a happy ever after with a guy that handsome? At least talk to him, H.”

It’s quiet for a bit while Harry processes her entire speech. A sigh. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’ll call him to talk in the morning.”

“Good. And now sleep, and you too, young man, your auntie needs her beauty sleep!”

“They might be a girl, Gemma.”

“Nah, don’t think so. We’ve talked about it.”

Harry rolls his eyes at her in the dark room and shuffles around to make himself comfortable. “Thanks for the talk, G.”

“Welcome,” comes her reply, only moments before he drifts off to sleep.

 

****

 

It’s hard to call Louis. He succeeded once at dialing his number without hanging up, but the sun wasn’t even up yet so it was to be expected that his phone would be off. After trying seventeen times to push the phone button, he sends of a quick text.

“Can we talk? Walk in the park maybe?”

It takes an excruciating ten minutes before his phone beeps with a reply.

“Sure. At the swings in twenty? Dress warm, it’s cold out!”

Harry rolls his eyes at Louis’ protective streak but pulls on an extra jumper and grabs his scarf anyway. Louis is already there when he arrives, one hand in the pocket of his jacket, biting at the thumbnail of the other while he leans against a pole. Despite it being a Sunday, there are no kids around the playground, probably because the temperature is icy and the wind has picked up since yesterday. The swings are moving back and forth by the sheer force of it, And Louis’ hair is blown out around his head. His eyes are fixed on something in the distance and he jolts when he hears Harry’s footfalls.

“Hi,” he smiles apprehensively and Harry’s chest constricts at the idea of having hurt Louis with his need to think about things.

“Hey,” he replies and hesitates on how to greet him but goes for a small peck on the cheek in the end. Louis’ arm comes up to squeeze him in a hug for a second or two, and Harry can’t deny how good that feels. He’s missed Louis, even if it’s merely two days since they’ve seen each other. “Shall we walk?” Louis nods and they take off, strolling leisurely despite the wind whipping around them.

Harry’s not sure how to start, he’s trying out different ways in his head when Louis pulls him out of his thoughts. “You wanted to talk? About the question I asked you on Friday, I assume?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Look, Lou, sorry if I hurt you, it’s just… I’m so confused about all of this.”

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have assumed that you feel the same way, I went too fast by asking you to be my boyfriend.”

“Louis, wait,” Harry interrupts, turning while putting his hand on Louis’ arm to make him stop walking. “I like you, a lot, a lot a lot,” he smiles at Louis’ soft chuckle. “I really do, I was just overwhelmed, and it’s really confusing for me that I’m not only thinking about me. I mean, there’s Frodo too. I have to think about them as well.”

“I know that, Harry. I think Frodo’s one of the major reasons why I asked you this early in our - what should I call it - dating process?” Louis stresses.

Harry sighs, turning back towards the path and strolling along. “And Frodo is the reason why I’m hesitant to say yes. If it was only me, then yes, I’d love to be your boyfriend. But there’s two of us. I don’t want to be a burden, Lou, I don’t want you to realise in 6 months or a year that a boy with a baby wasn’t really the package deal you wanted. I don’t want to risk a broken heart because of this. It’s going to be hard enough as it is, adjusting to Frodo being a part of my life, taking my A-levels next year, I don’t want to throw a broken heart in the mix if I can avoid it.”

“Harry…” Louis tries but Harry just continues his ramble.

“And, what if you do become part of our lives, and we become a family of sorts, and then in the end you leave? I want my own heart protected, but Frodo’s even more. I don’t want them to hurt because of my love life being rubbish.”

“Okay, Harry stop!” Louis urges him, his voice slightly louder than usual. It startles Harry, but is effective in shutting him up. “I know you’re about to have a baby, okay, I’m very aware of that fact, and still I’d like you to be my boyfriend. I’ve grown up with younger siblings being constantly around, I know what babies are like. So I’m pretty confident that Frodo isn’t going to be a deal breaker in our relationship.”

Harry exhales shakily and nods. “Okay.”

“And Harry, I can’t promise you that we’ll be together forever and that we won’t ever hurt each other. Of course I can’t. But I do like you, and I think we have the potential of being something great together. I want to be there for you, now, while you’re pregnant, in a couple of months when Frodo comes and when they’ve just arrived, next year when you’re still adjusting to doing everything at the same time. I want to be your boyfriend, not just someone you like to kiss and hang out with, no strings attached. I want the strings, I want the baby, I want us.” Louis bites his lip when he’s finally finished, his hands falling down to his sides after having gesticulated rather heavily during his speech.

Both Harry’s eyes and smile are rather watery when he looks up at Louis. “You’re sure?”

“As sure as I’m ever going to be.” Louis answers, nodding decisively.

“Gemma said I might be wasting something great if I didn’t give us a chance, I guess she’s right,” he ponders while fingering the hem of his jumper.

“She’s a smart girl, your sister,” Louis laughs softly.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, she is. So uhm, you still want to be my boyfriend?”

“If you’d let me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I will.” Their smiles are absolutely radiant when they stop walking and turn towards each other.

“So, am I allowed to kiss my boyfriend, then?” he asks cheekily.

“Hmm hmm,” Harry nods enthusiastically, and it’s two small steps until their bodies collide and their lips meet in a soft yet hungry kiss. It seems that Louis’ missed him as much as he missed Louis and that’s comforting in a way.

They break apart when Louis violently shivers because of a particularly strong gust of wind hitting them. “Looks like someone should’ve taken their own advice to dress warm,” Harry teases, immediately receiving a soft slap to his arm in spite. “Come on, let’s get inside. My place or yours?”

“Wherever I can kiss you some more?”

“Yours then, mum’s probably still asleep after her night shift but I don’t know what Gemma’s up to.”

Louis chuckles and laces his fingers with Harry’s. “Mine it is. Car’s parked just in front, might want to stop at the bakery or Tesco’s or anything, don’t think I have anything edible for lunch.”

They decide on Tesco’s and spend the majority of the day kissing and talking and kissing some more. It’s actually a miracle they succeed in throwing a decent lunch together in between.

 

****

 

It’s all going great from then on. They see each other every day for the remainder of winter break, and while Anne still is the one accompanying him to his appointment with Ayleen, Louis is still the first one he calls to report what’s been said and done. Frodo’s still the very paragon of a healthy, thriving baby with a strong heartbeat and the bump is still growing as expected. Louis takes him shopping the day after, when Harry complains about his shirts all becoming too short because of his growing stomach and they spend the day meandering the shopping streets with a lot of breaks for tea and cookies. These days, Harry feels like he has a lot more energy than he had before, but the pregnancy is also starting to take its toll on his back and his legs, his muscles getting sore when he stands or walks too much. The frequent stops make it easier to get through the day without much soreness though, and he doesn’t complain when Louis insists he carries their bags. He does try to argue when Louis pays for what he’s chosen in at least two shops and then buys a lot of things for Frodo as well, but he quickly learns there’s no use. Louis’ as stubborn as he’s cute, and he won’t take no for an answer.

Anne learns about Louis being his boyfriend that same day when he drives them home and Harry makes them hot chocolate, only reacting with an eyeroll, followed by a smile and hugs and a muttered “glad you got your act together, loves.” Harry’s not sure if he should be happy about her laid back reaction or offended by her comment. He chooses happiness as soon as he lays eyes on Louis though.

  


Unfortunately, they see a lot less of each other once school starts again. Louis has a busy schedule this semester and while Harry isn’t taking the mock exams, he still has classes to attend. Football practice is getting more serious as well, with quarter finals only weeks away so even if it’s technically time they spend together, it’s all work and no fun.

Louis tries to come over as often as he can, still drives Harry home but there’s lots of lesson plans to prepare as well, so Harry gets it when they have to say goodbye with a kiss over the console of Louis’ car. At least they still text or call for a bit before going to bed.

  
  


Gemma’s the one who takes him to his next visit with Ayleen, right before she takes off for another one of her internships. Anne had to take an extra shift at work for someone who called in sick, and Louis has a class at the time of his appointment. Everything is well, and Gemma squeals when she discovers she gets to see the baby live on ultrasound. It’s the last one, and it’s funny to see how the baby is now larger than the screen and Jake has to move his probe around a lot to see their entire body. Everything’s still as good as it gets, Frodo’s doing good, the placenta looks good as well as the blood vessels, so counting down is all there’s left to do. Ayleen explains to him the next appointment will be the last one after a four week interval, after that she’ll want to see him every two weeks, and when he hits the 40 weeks mark, it’ll be down to once a week or more often if necessary. Harry knows it’s most likely that he will go past 40 weeks since it’s his first pregnancy and male pregnancies usually last a little longer than female ones, but he’s still annoyed by the idea of  having to wait at least another 12 weeks before he can finally meet Frodo. Frodo seems to share the sentiment, kicking violently at Ayleen’s hands as she’s examining him.

“Alright, Harry, I’ll see you in four weeks then, we’ll cover some of the things you ought to expect when going into labour then, but as I’ve said before, if anything’s bothering you or you’re worried, just call me, and definitely call if there’s any blood loss, alright?” she tells him after washing her hands and handling the paperwork.

“Sure, thanks again, Ayleen.”

 

He sees Gemma off at the train station the week after that, Louis has driven them because Anne’s busy at work once again, apparently February is the perfect month for every single one of her colleagues to get ill. Gemma almost takes more time to say goodbye to the baby than to her own brother, but she ignores it when Harry playfully calls her out on it.

“And don’t you dare give birth before I’m back, little brother, I won’t ever forgive you!” she adds as a last thought before picking up her bags.

“You’re only gone for nine weeks, Gems, what are the odds?”

“I know, I know, but still! I heard what Ayleen said last week, it’s all normal for a baby to be born somewhere between 37 and 42 weeks gestation, and you’ll be almost 38 weeks along when I get back, so I’m kindly reminding you to keep your legs closed!”

“I do think it’s Frodo you’ll have to talk to Gemma, I’ve seen my mum going into labour enough times to know it’s the baby who decides where and when it’ll come,” Louis quips.

“Shut up, brother’s boyfriend, I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Gemma teases before giving him a quick hug as well. There’s another kiss to Harry’s belly and she’s gone, scarf and unbuttoned coat flapping behind her as she runs to make it to the train before it leaves.

  


****

 

Louis’ with him when Anne breaks the news next Tuesday. They’re having his favourite for dinner, homemade pizza with loads of veggies and pineapple and corn on his, and he’s so happy to finally have dinner as he’s been craving it since just after lunch that it takes a while to notice that Anne hasn’t started eating. “Is something wrong mum?” he asks, making Louis look up from his plate.

“No, no, not really, ‘s just… You know there’ve been a lot of people calling in sick lately, and uhm, my boss came to talk to me yesterday. She wants me to work night shifts for the next four months. It’d allow me to compensate for the hours I worked more in these past few weeks, and I’d fill in for someone who’s on extended sick leave. I told her I’d think about it, since Gemma’s gone for her internship and you’re pregnant, but Harry, she didn’t really leave me a choice. There’s a rumour they’re going to reorganise and it seems like I should be glad if I still have a job this time next year.”

“Oh. Okay. So you’d be working like one week out of two, right, that’s what night shifts are like?”

“Yeah, or 10 days on and 10 days off, depends on the rest of the schedule. I just feel bad about leaving you here at home by yourself Harry. Especially with your due date right in the middle of it all.”

“Mum, I’m 18, I’m old enough to be on my own,” Harry tries to reassure her, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling he gets from the idea alone. “And you’d still be able to take a couple of weeks off when the baby arrived, yes?”

“Yes, of course, I’ll probably be able to take some more time off if I work enough hours now, but I’m still worried. You’re pregnant Harry, I don’t want you to be on your own if something happens. What if you go into labour and there’s no one here?”

“Then I’ll call Ayleen, just like she told me to.”

“Or you could come and stay with me?” Louis pipes up, effectively making both Harry and Anne almost break their neck as they turn to watch him. He clears his throat. “I mean, if you wanted to. I’ve got a spare room, we could put a bed there for you, and you wouldn’t be alone. I would be worried sick if I knew you were here on your own H, but I don’t want to push you.”

“It would be a great solution, that’s for sure,” Anne adds. And okay, if his mum is okay with him basically moving in with his boyfriend of 6 weeks for half the time, maybe he should just do it.

“Uhm, yeah, okay, seems like it would solve all problems in one go. So if you’re sure, Lou, then I think I would like that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Louis beams. The rest of their dinner is spent discussing practicalities, and if Louis is pretty much radiating when Harry quietly asks him if he really needs to sleep in the spare room when they’re doing the washing up together, nobody has to know.

 

It’s early March when Louis helps Harry pack his bag for a week of camping over at his flat, making sure he’s got enough clothes packed, as well as textbooks and his laptop for school. He also makes sure he’s got Ayleen’s number programmed in his phone, should there be something they need to call her for while Harry’s with him and Harry just wants to kiss him senseless for it. Except that his feet hurt and he’s tired and he actually just wants it over with so he can go to sleep. It’s been a long couple of days, with some essays due this week and Gemma demanding to skype every single night and their quarter final match coming up next week.

“Are you okay babe?” Louis asks him when he slumps down on his bed, tired of going back and forth to pick out clothing and put it in his bag.

“Yeah, just dead on my feet. And I haven’t been sleeping very well because of some little troublemaker having parties in the middle of the night. It’s either a footballer or a dancer, I tell you.”

“Let’s go home then, I think we’ve got everything you could possibly need, and if not we can always come back here and get it.” Harry likes the sound of that, going home to Louis’ flat but he tries not to preen too much over it. They say goodbye to Anne who’s rummaging around downstairs, promising to call her at least every two days and if something’s wrong and then Louis’ left with the hard task to try and fit everything in the trunk of his car that’s always filled with things that’ve made their home there. Harry’s asleep before Louis even starts the car, and doesn’t even remember how he got there when he wakes up to Louis crawling into bed next to him and turning off the bedside lamp on his side of the bed. He shrugs and shuffles closer to his boyfriend, smiling when the latter wraps his arm around his waist, hand resting on his stomach.

 

Louis wakes up early, almost an hour before his alarm is set to go off. Even in his drowsy state, he smiles at the way Harry’s curled up in his arms, made himself as small as possible even while sleeping. He shuffles out of bed, careful not to wake Harry and goes to switch on the kettle before heading to the bathroom for his morning routine. They’re having an extra practice this morning to prepare for quarter finals but Louis is planning to let Harry sleep in. Apart from practice, they don’t have anywhere to be and the boy had been dead tired yesterday. He probably more than needs the sleep, and the team can manage one practice without him. He prepares his tea and eats a bowl of the too healthy muesli Harry made him buy at Tesco’s because “I can’t eat that disgustingly sweet cereal you’ve got at yours, Louis, and you shouldn’t either” and hates it before getting dressed quietly in his bedroom. Harry’s still asleep, snuffling quietly when Louis presses a kiss to his forehead and leaves a post it on the nightstand.

 

When Louis opens his front door coming back from practice, he hears sounds of pots and pans being used coming from the kitchen, and sure enough it’s where he finds Harry. He almost has a heart attack because of Harry’s dress choices. He’s not wearing any trousers, just a pair of black boxer shorts that hug his bum in exactly the right way and a loose white button down shirt that’s only buttoned halfway. It falls open over his stomach, and Louis takes some time to admire his boyfriend as he stands in the doorway, watching Harry cook, probably preparing lunch. After a couple of minutes, he starts feeling like a creep and clears his throat, Harry looking up from where he is cutting up a red bell pepper and removing his earphones. That explains why he never heard Louis coming home in the first place. Louis walks up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning around to kiss him softly.

“You slept well?” he questions as he nuzzles his face into Harry’s neck.

“Better than I’ve done in weeks. Needed it too. Though you could've woke me up for practice. How was it?” comes his soft reply.

“You needed sleep more than the team needed your presence there. It was alright, there’s some work on Leo’s physique but he’ll get there by next week. Don’t think Liam let one ball pass, so that’s reassuring.”

“Hmmmm, would’ve liked to be there though. But I appreciate the gesture. And sleep did me well.” Harry mumbles while moving aside the pieces of red bell pepper he’s cut and picking up a carrot to be chopped up next. “Lunch should be ready in fifteen minutes, you can have a shower before if you’re quick.”

“Is that your very subtle way of telling me I stink, Styles?” Louis teases, causing Harry to giggle softly.

“When have you ever known me to be subtle? You smell like locker room, Tomlinson, go shower!” he laughs, throwing the shirt that Louis removed to hang over his head after him as he heads to the shower.

  


Louis thinks he can get used to days like these. Harry’s doing schoolwork and surfing the internet on his breaks, while Louis is writing out some more lesson plans (these things keep coming, it’s ridiculous) and makes his monthly report for coach Henderson. Harry put on one of his CD’s in the background, and keeps humming along with the music every so often. Whenever one of them feels like it, they go and get some fresh tea and takes the other a cup to be exchanged for a soft kiss. It’s proper domestic, and therefore pretty much everything Louis has ever been looking for. It’s scary if he puts it like that, just a bit, especially when one brings Frodo in the equation, but when he lets himself consider it properly, it feels nothing but exactly the way it should be. He’s always wanted a big family and he likes Harry more than enough to take the leap with him. It’s just after four, on the brink of dusk outside, when he finally puts down his pen and closes his laptop, stretching languidly.

“How about we take a short walk? I feel properly toasted after sitting here for so long,” he asks Harry who’s seemingly clicking around on YouTube.

“Best idea you’ve had in awhile!” Harry agrees, and both trek to the bedroom to put on proper clothing and shoes to head outside. They end up walking around the block, stopping at the small grocery store on the corner for the ingredients to make rice pudding (“Frodo needs some, Louis, I can’t help it!”) and a bag of oranges to press in the morning (“I can’t believe you always buy Tropicana, it’s nothing like fresh juice!”). Louis might roll his eyes a couple of times at Harry’s antics, but he can’t even try to hide how fond he is of the boy. The girl at the register notices too, as she sweetly tells them how cute they are together and congratulates them on the baby. They’re both blushing heavily for the remainder of their walk, tied hands swinging between them.

 

Their first week of living together flies by. They’re both busy at school and usually have about an hour of schoolwork to do after dinner. To even it out, they’ve decided that they’d take turns in cooking dinner, and the one who isn’t cooking would do dishes. More often than not, they end up doing both chores together, talking or cuddling while doing so. Harry loves how cuddly Louis is, they always were, he thinks, but since he’s moved in (temporarily, he has to remind himself constantly) it’s gotten even worse. Or better, whatever. The only thing that worries him a bit is how chaste Louis is being. They cuddle a lot in bed, made out a couple of times as well, but nothing else has happened. He worries that Louis doesn’t want him that way, is disgusted by the way he’s gotten pregnant or even the pregnancy itself or just _something_ , because despite the fact that they’re both healthy young men, he hasn’t even hinted at anything more than kissing. He doesn’t really know how to bring it up either, doesn’t want to disturb their equilibrium or even worse, risk that Louis doesn’t want him to stay over anymore. It’s hard though, because apart from the worry it causes him, his hormones are raging. It was bad before, has been ever since the first fatigue had died down but ever since he’s rounded the 30 week milestone, it’s gotten even worse. He can’t even count the times he’s had to escape to the bathroom to do something about it on both hands. It sucks. So much that he even brought it up in his call with Gemma, who laughed at him for five minutes straight and then told him to man up and confront Louis with it.

He still doesn’t know how to do it, but then finally, over breakfast after his last night there for a week, he gathers his courage and goes for it.

 

“Lou? Could you like, sit down for a sec?” Louis turns around from where he’s reading yesterday’s paper at the counter.

“Oh, sure, I didn’t see you’d gotten out of the shower already. Morning, love,” he smiles, pecking Harry on the lips before setting his cup of tea on the table.

“Uhm, can I ask you something?”

“Sure love, what’s going on?” Louis frowns, and fuck, Harry doesn’t know how to continue but it’s too late to not say anything now.

“Do you… do you find me attractive? Like, sexually?”

“Harry? Of course I find you attractive, in every possible way. What is this about, Haz?”

Harry groans, hiding his face in his hands, trying to ignore the movements of Frodo twisting and turning in his stomach. “Don’t laugh at me, okay?”

“Okay…”

“But like, promise?”

“Haz, yes, I promise not to laugh, now just please tell me what is going on, I’m getting worried here.”

“Uhm, right, we’ve been cuddling a lot this week, and we’ve made out a couple of times too, and I really liked that, but Lou… Why does it always stop there? Because I worry that you don’t wanna do anything else with me and I wanna do so much more with you and to be completely honest it’s getting me ridiculously frustrated.” He rambles, not taking a breath until the end of his sentence.

“Oh Haz, have you been worrying about that this entire week? Oh baby! I always stopped at making out because I didn’t want to push you, and because I’m not sure if you’re like… allowed to have sex?”

“Oh. Uhm. Ayleen never said anything about it, so I guess I am. But then again, she doesn’t know we’re together now. I’ll ask her next time. But so, it isn’t because you don’t want to do anything more?”

“Haz, no! Of course not! I’d have to say I’m a bit frustrated myself, sometimes.” Louis bashfully adds.

Harry giggles at that, but is then reminded by the clock on the oven that they have to rush.

“Fuck, Harry, I hate you for bringing this up at breakfast! Especially when we won’t be able to see each other tonight!” Louis groans as he runs to put on his shoes and coat, almost falling over as he jumps on one leg trying to pull his sneaker over his heel.

“Sorry!”

“Oh, but you won’t be sorry when you sleep over next time, love, I’ll make sure of that,” Louis hoarsely whispers as he corners Harry next to the front door, pressing up close to him. Harry swallows and wills himself to calm down for a solid two minutes before he follows Louis outside, grateful that his boyfriend already took his bags to the car.

  


****

  


The flat is oddly empty that night, so much that Louis doesn’t feel at home when he finally arrives there after football practice and a staff meeting. He’s sent Harry a quick text when he left at school, but since there’s still no reply, Louis guesses he’s already asleep. He should probably do something about the ever growing pile of laundry in his bathroom, but he can’t bring himself to do so, feeling stupidly lonely now that Harry’s back at his mum’s place.

Instead, he goes to bed early, takes a book that he’s been planning to read for months with him, but he can’t focus for more than a couple of minutes so he turns off the lights and goes to sleep.

He’s not sure what time it is when he’s woken up by his ringtone, but it’s definitely still dark, he’s still tired and he doesn’t ever bother checking the caller ID.

“‘lo?” he grunts. It takes him about two seconds to wake up completely and sit up in his bed when he hears Harry whimpering and crying on the other side.

“Louis! I- I- it hurts Lou!”

“Harry, love, what’s going on?” he urges, going into full alarm mode.

“It hurts so much, my stomach, I’m so scared, Lou!” he hiccups.

“Baby, where’s Anne, did you tell her?”

“She went out with a friend for dinner and drinks, I checked but she’s not back yet. Louis, please, I’m so scared!”

“I know baby, I know. Give me 10 minutes, I’ll drive over, alright? Should I call Ayleen on the way over?”

“No, please, Lou, I need you, I don’t want to hang up.”

“Okay, okay, I’m on my way, love, hang on!” Louis replies, putting his phone on speaker as he scrambles out of bed, grabbing a T-shirt and joggers from his drawers before running to the hallway to get his shoes on.

He probably breaks a law or two while driving over, muttering comforting words to Harry who’s still on the brink of hysteria, judging from the sound of his voice.

“I’m almost here, Haz, I’m turning into your street as we speak, can you come and open the door for me love?”

“Y-yeah, I’m coming downstairs,” he sniffles, followed by rustling from his sheets and the slapping of his bare feet on the floor. Louis clambers out of his car as soon as he’s shut the motor off, and he’s right in front of the door when Harry pulls it open. Harry pulls him inside and into a hug as soon as he sees him, crying into his neck. “Lou! I’m so scared, it hurts so much and there was blood on my sheets and…”

“Shhhh, love, come on, let’s get inside. Do you want to go back to bed or stay downstairs in the living room?”

“B- Back to bed.” Harry stammers and Louis nods, helping him back upstairs to his bedroom. The room is still dark, but because of Harry’s mention of blood on the sheets, he turns on the light, and indeed notices a smear of brownish blood on the undersheet, and now that he gets a good look at it, another smear on the back of Harry’s long sleeping shirt. He tampers down the panic he feels rising in his chest and pays attention to his breathing - calm and measured - as he makes Harry lie down in his bed once more. He notices now that it’s only midnight, but it seems later because of how early he went to bed. Before he even consciously makes the decision, he’s calling his mum, as he always does when he feels upset and needs comforting. In this situation, it’s a great extra that she’s a midwife and she’ll know what to do.

“Louis?” she sounds somewhat alarmed, receiving a phone call from his this late at night.

“Mum! Hi, it’s- it’s Harry. He called me because his stomach hurts and there’s some blood on his sheets as well, should I take him to hospital?” He blurts.

“Louis, calm down love, how much blood is there? Is it red or brown?”

“Brown, and not too much, just a smear on his sheets and some on the back of the shirt he slept in tonight.”

“Okay, that’s good. How far along is he now?”

“30 weeks since Friday, right babe?” Harry nods from where he’s lying in bed, his face contorted in pain.

“Is it a bit slimy around the blood?”

“I can’t tell mum, it’s all dry now, but I’ll ask him. Harry, was the blood on the sheets and on your shirt slimy?” Harry nods. “He says it was.”

“Alright, that probably means it’s his mucus plug, nothing to worry about. We’ll get back to that later on. Now the pain, is it continuous, or more like cramps?”

“From what I’ve seen, more like cramps, getting worse and then dying down a bit, though I don’t think it goes away completely, right love?”

“Hmmm, yeah, there’s always a little bit of pain but then it gets worse only to die down a bit. And my stomach’s all hard as well. I can’t go into labour yet, it’s way too soon, Lou!” he wails the last bit.

“How long has that been going on? And are the intervals between the cramps regular?”

Louis checks with Harry before answering. “Very irregular, both the duration and the intervals in between. It’s been going on for about an hour now.”

“Okay, those are just Braxton-Hicks contractions, I’ve told you about them when I was pregnant with the twins, didn’t I Lou?”

“Uhm, yeah, I think you did.”

“Good, then you know they’re normal and nothing to worry about. Now go make your boy some tea and a hot-water bottle while I talk to him for a bit.” Jay orders.

Louis thinks it’s probably weird that Harry’s first time talking to his mum is in this situation, but he trusts her to console Harry and he knows Harry needs the opinion of a professional now. When he walks back into Harry’s bedroom with a cup of chamomile tea and the hot-water bottle, it seems like the contractions have disappeared again, the boy’s eyes closed and Louis’ phone loosely held in the hand resting on his stomach. He opens his eyes and smiles softly when Louis puts his cup of tea on the nightstand and sits down next to his knees on the bed.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks for coming over, and for calling your mum, and this,” he gestures to the tea and the bottle. “Just gonna put this on my stomach for a bit to ease the last bits of pain.”

Louis stays with him for another half hour until he’s asleep, getting up to go home when he hears Anne opening the front door downstairs.

“Louis?” she sounds surprised to see him when she’s turned towards the footsteps coming down the stairs. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey Anne. It’s okay now. Harry’s had some Braxton-Hicks contractions and he was scared so he called me and I came over. Called my mum and she managed to console him. She’s a midwife,” he explains when Anne looks at him questioningly.

“Oh, Louis, I’m sorry, he shouldn’t have called you to come over, I was just having dinner with an old friend, I would’ve come home if I’d known.”

“It’s alright, Anne, I honestly don’t mind. I’m going to head home now though, early morning and all.”

“I’d offer you to stay on the sofa bed but I’m guessing you’ll need a change of clothes,” Anne winks as she lets him out, locking up the front door behind him.

  


Anne calls Ayleen the next day, getting Harry an earlier appointment for the afternoon and lets him stay home from school. From what Louis understands about it, losing the mucus plug is no big deal, for some people, it indicates that labour will start shortly, but most of the time it’s completely unrelated and it will probably just grow back. He should also expect more of the contractions, as Ayleen related them to football practice before the actual game, and take more rest. It’s not something Harry likes to hear, as he was determined to keep going to school until the end of April and wanted to be there for the rest of the football tournament. Louis thinks he might make it for that last bit, as he isn’t sure they’ll make it into the final when their opponent for the semi-final at the end of this month  is one of the strongest teams in their region. Harry shushes him when he voices his worries, and tells him they’ll talk about that later.

“Alright, it’s lovely to hear your belief in our team is so strong, babe,” Louis teases him before hanging up. “Go get some rest now though, you heard what Ayleen told you!”

“God Louis, you’re even worse than my mum!” Harry complains, only to be met with giggles before Louis finally disconnects.

 

****

 

A week goes by without much spectacular happening, Harry moves back to Louis’ when his mum starts another ten days of night shifts and Louis comes along to Harry’s next appointment with Ayleen that first night. She goes over what to expect when Harry goes into labour and what to do when the time is there once more, making sure Louis knows everything at least as well as Harry does. He knows most of it already, having caught on somewhere along his mum’s pregnancies or her telling him stories about her job. He’s about to get up, picking up his jacket from the back of his chair when Harry clears his throat, effectively catching Ayleen’s attention, as well as Louis’.

“Uhm, I was wondering, you never mentioned it, and I never needed to know because I didn’t have a boyfriend, but now with Louis… uhm… can I still have sex? Like, could we hurt the baby or something, or cause premature labour? I think I read something in one of the books mum got me at the beginning, but I wanted to ask you to be sure.” Louis goes beet red as soon as Harry mentions him and sex in the same sentence. He’d almost forgotten about Harry’s worries despite it only being a good week ago, and it hadn’t come up again since they’d slept separately this last week. Ayleen seems unfazed though, putting down her papers again as she starts explaining.

“In a normal pregnancy, sex is allowed until the very last day. You wouldn’t hurt the baby during it, as it is safely protected in your womb and, not to harm your ego’s, there is no way any penis could reach that far. Having some form of uterus contractions after you orgasm is to be expected, and in some conditions it’s discouraged to engage in any sexual activities, but I’d warn you upfront if that ever is the case. You’re good to go,” she winks at them, followed up by a “have fun!” when she lets them out of her office.

 

The drive back is fairly silent, the only noises that of the motor and the upbeat pop music the radio seems to always play at this time of day. “Are you mad?” Harry finally asks when Louis stops the car down the street of his flat.

“What? No! Why would I be mad?” Louis questions, looking genuinely taken aback by Harry’s question.

“Because I asked Ayleen if we could have sex. I saw how flushed you got by it.”

“Oh babe, no, of course I’m not mad. It’s just… It was kind of weird, discussing sex with someone outside our relationship. It’s nothing I’ve ever done before so I was a bit out of my depth. But uhm, well, I suppose it’s good to know that we’re in the clear,” he smiles happily, adding an exaggerated wink for good measure. That makes it Harry’s time to blush as he scrambles to get out of the car and catch up with Louis.

Dinner is a quick fix, just shoving the casserole Louis had prepared the day before in the oven and waiting for it to be heated. It gives them enough time to shower before dinner, Louis just quickly washing his hair and body and getting dressed in a pair of joggers and an old T-shirt, Harry taking some more time and getting frustrated because he wants to clean up but he can’t reach properly below his belly. In the end he just gives up, decides that Louis will have to take him just the way he is and relaxes some more under the hot water, enjoying the way Frodo kicks around happily until Louis’ head appears from behind the door to tell him dinner is ready. He picks some loose under-the-bump yoga pants and a long white button-up to wear for the rest of the night, choosing comfort over fancy. The casserole is tasty, full of veggies and topped off with lots of cheese, but not so much that it’s heavy in their stomachs. By the time they head to the couch with tea and the cookies Harry made the previous night, Harry’s already half hard in his pants just from the anticipation and seeing how delicious Louis’ bum looks in his joggers. If Louis notices, he doesn’t mention it, but he does sit down awfully close to Harry after getting up to put their empty cups back on the coffee table. In any other situation or with any other guy, Harry thinks it would’ve been awkward, both knowing what will happen tonight, except they both seem to wait for the other to initiate things.

“When did you first know you liked me?” Louis questions, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

“Uhm, I’m not sure. I think I’ve liked you for a long time before I let myself admit it that one night over winter break, when you gave me that half assed kiss on the mouth. But now that I think about it, probably when you came with me to the first appointment with Ayleen and you scrambled to say you weren’t my boyfriend. I think I was secretly wishing you would be.” Harry smiles at the memory. “How about you?”

“When I realised I couldn’t sleep at night because how worried I was about your health. I mean, I always worry about my players if they’re not feeling well, but it never kept me awake.” Louis replies, shrugging.

“That’s really sweet, Lou! I did think you were hot the first time I saw you though, you were so much better than our last assistant in every possible way.”

Louis snickers at that. “And I might have appreciated the way your bum looks in your kit that first few practices.” Harry snuggles close to him, shuffling around a bit until he can comfortably put his head on Louis’ shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re my boyfriend now,” he mumbles, closing his eyes and pressing into it as Louis cards his hands through his ever-growing hair.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Good, ‘cause so am I.” He twists out of his position and turns to face Harry, his hands cupping the boy’s face gently as he leans in.

Their kiss feels familiar yet new, their lips soft and slightly moist. Harry gasps when Louis softly nibbles on his lip and eagerly joins Louis’ tongue when it slips into his mouth. Their kiss gets deeper and turns heated quickly, causing Harry to climb onto Louis’ lap because _closer closer closer_ . A moan escapes his lips when Louis pulls him as close as they can get with his swollen stomach between them and bucks his hips against his bum in the same movement, his erection pressing up against Harry’s thigh. Good to know he’s not the only one so easily affected by this. He links his hands behind Louis’ neck while Louis’ come down to rest on his hips, pulling him impossibly closer and down at the same time. Louis whines when he accidentally shifts, his hand slipping to tug on his hair and his ass grinding down on Louis’ crotch. He fucking _whines_ and damn, that’s hotter than it probably should be. Their kissing turns frantic, teeth clashing every now and then and their breaths short and heavy between them. Louis’ hands move upward to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with the few he bothered to fasten until they’re all undone and he can push the shirt off Harry’s shoulders.

“Look at you, you’re so beautiful!” he pants, moving his lips from Harry’s mouth down the sleek column of his neck and further down his sternum, his hands following the path of his lips on the side, softly stroking his pecs as he struggles to move his mouth further down Harry’s body.

“Off, off, off,” Harry chants as he tugs on Louis’ T-shirt, diving in happily as soon as the offending piece of fabric is removed by his boyfriend. His hands roam freely over Louis’ torso while he sucks a bruise into Louis’ neck, pasting himself as close to Louis as his stomach allows him.

Louis groans loudly as Harry’s lips make a purple patch bloom right below his jaw. “Bed Harry, come on,” he pleads, gently pushing him off so they can get up and move their make out session to the bedroom. “Take that off too,” Louis gestures to Harry’s yoga pants, getting rid of his joggers himself so he’s only in his soft black boxers that are already obscenely tented when he lies down on the bed.

The sheets smell of washing powder, Harry notices when he too lies down, but it’s not long before any thought other than Louis is pushed out of his brain. Louis sits up halfway against the headboard, a pillow supporting his back and pulling Harry on top of him. His pregnancy hasn’t affected his flexibility, that much is obvious when he goes to straddle Louis and leans down to kiss him some more. This position allows him more room to play around with, and it’s not long before he’s sucking bruises into Louis’ chest and around his navel. It has Louis writhing beneath him, bucking his hips in the air and fisting the sheets. Harry makes the mistake to look up at Louis with mirth in his eyes, happy that he’s able to wreck Louis in such a short amount of time. Louis sees it and takes advantage of his momentum to turn them around, leaving Harry on his back and Louis half on top, half next to him. As soon as Louis dives in, pleasure is everywhere. He can feel Louis’ mouth moving around his chest and belly, switching between sucking bruises, leaving butterfly kisses and licking reverently while his hands stroke his face, tug his hair, tickle his thighs and softly press on the bulge in his pants. It’s too much and not enough at the same time, and he honestly can’t be blamed for almost coming into his pants when Louis leans down. “You should know how many times I’ve gotten myself off by thinking of this, thinking of you,” he whispers and it takes all of his willpower not to reach down and tug himself to a climax.

“Ngghhhh,” is Harry’s very eloquent reply, causing Louis to chuckle. He’d consider slapping him for laughing at him, but he forgets about it as soon as the thought popped into his head. Which has definitely nothing to do with Louis leaning down to suck his nipple into his mouth, nibbling softly before he releases it and blows cold air on it to bring it to full hardness. He glances down to Harry’s crotch where a wet patch appeared on the black cotton and grins. “You have a thing for nipple play, then?” he asks.

“Hmmm, yeah, always had, but they’re just so sensitive now since I’m pregnant, it’s unreal!” Harry pants out.

“Good to know,” Louis winks, switching sides and leaning down to give his right nipple a similar treatment while he lets his fingers play with the left one. Harry trashes around, going absolutely crazy with want for the pretty boy in bed with him and finally Louis seems to catch on, abandoning the teasing to hook his fingers behind the waistband of Harry’s pants to pull them down. Harry lifts his bum when he feels the fabric sliding down, allowing Louis to take them off completely and throw it somewhere on the ground. “Look at you,” he breathes reverently, his hand traveling from Harry’s chest down his swollen stomach to his thighs, already trembling in anticipation. Harry cries out when Louis leans down and presses a soft kiss to his head, lapping at the ridge of skin a second later. Louis’ tongue follows the thick vein on the throbbing shaft, moving from his head to the dark patch of downy hair around the base. Harry wishes he could see more of it, the swell of his stomach preventing it, but it adds to the surprise when Louis’ tongue is suddenly back at the head, giving a few kitten licks before taking him into his mouth, moaning throatily as he does so. Harry’s trying so hard to stay still, but he just can’t help bucking his hips up into Louis’ mouth. “Shit, sorry, sorry, sorry,” Harry squeals in horror, but Louis just moves his hand up to his hip to help him keep still, seemingly not really bothered by it as he goes on sucking Harry’s dick.

It’s so warm and slick is the thing, and Harry can’t even remember when he last had a decent blow job, let alone one as good as Louis’. It’s like Louis just knows what he likes best, the way he goes down while his tongue presses against the underside of Harry’s dick, and sucks harder as soon as he comes back up around the head. Harry feels like he’s going to come far too soon for his liking and he tries to hold on, he really does, but all it takes is a long suck at the head for him to reach down and tug on Louis’ hair. “Lou, Lou! Gonna come,” he warns, but all Louis’ does is hum around his cock and pulls off a bit more to catch as much as he can when Harry shoots into his mouth. Louis’ moved his hand away from Harry’s hips as he’s convulsing on the mattress, coming harder than he’s done in months. “Come ‘ere!” he whines once the waves of pleasure have died down, needing the man who did this to him closer. Louis moves up, nuzzling his nose into Harry’s neck as he turns onto his side, one hand clutching his belly as the other pulls Louis closer by the small of his back. “Hi,” Louis smiles and Harry’s sure his own smile looks ridiculously blissed out. “There’s come on your cheek,” he comments after a minute or so, making Louis scowl and comment on his lack of romance. It’s only when Louis shifts uncomfortably that Harry realises he hasn’t come yet, his hard on bumping against Harry’s hip. “Oh!” Harry gasps, reaching down and making Louis’ chuckle die in his throat when his hand wraps around his erection.

“Fuck,” he breathes, Harry wiping his thumb over the slit to gather up as much precome as he can to slick the slide before he starts pumping. Harry revels in the way Louis twists and turns with every move of his hand, throwing his head back so the purple bruise on his neck is on full display when he twists on the downslide. He feels himself getting hard again at the sight alone, and he lets go of Louis’ cock only to grip his own in his hand as well, starting to tug them off together. It renders Louis’ speechless, not an easy feat, reducing him to a blabbering, mumbling mess of a man at the realisation Harry’s hands are big enough to circle them both and make it as good as it is. “Ngghhhn, Harry!” he moans loudly, burying his face in Harry’s neck and biting his shoulder when his hips start shaking their way through his climax. His come slicks the slide, and a few more tugs are enough to make Harry come a second time.

Louis’ still not entirely back on earth when he crawls closer to Harry, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips when he notices the painful grimace on Harry’s face as he clutches his stomach.

“Love, what’s wrong?” he questions worriedly.

“Ngggghh, it’s fine, I think. Just my stomach getting hard again, like Ayleen said it might. I just didn’t think it’d hurt this much from something as wonderful as an orgasm. Or well, two. Wasn’t this bad after the first time.” he manages, turning onto his back and propping himself up against the pillows to try and make himself more comfortable.

“I’ll get something to clean us up,” Louis says, pressing a kiss to Harry’s surprisingly hard stomach. “Be right back.”

Harry’s eyes are closed and his face looks a bit more relaxed when Louis comes back into the room, a warm flannel in one hand and a fluffy towel in the other. He works efficiëntly and leaves the towel on the wet patch on the sheets. “Thanks love,” Harry smiles, looking more sleepy than in pain now, much to Louis’ relief.

It’s the first time that Louis realises how deep his feelings for the boy in his bed are, and how difficult it is to see him in pain.

  


****

  


It’s not until he comes home from school two days later to find Harry sitting on the windowsill of the large window in the livingroom, attempting to paint his toenails a bright pink that he brings it up. Harry’d been feeling dizzy and tired in the morning, so Louis had told him to stay at home, having to threaten him with a call to his mum and Ayleen to tell them he wasn’t resting up enough before he would listen. He looks better now, not as pale, and at least his smile reaches his eyes when he notices Louis coming inside. “Hey love,” he mutters into Louis’ lips when he reaches down to kiss him hello. “Hi there, need help?”

“Would you mind?” Louis shakes his head, because of course he wouldn’t mind and sits himself down on the ground in front of Harry, one of his feet in his lap and the bottle of nail polish on the floor.

“How was your day?”

“Quiet, slept until noon, woke up and got a bad to ease those Braxton-Hicks bitches, skyped with Gemma and mum for a bit, slept some more and then cleaned the veggies for dinner. How was yours?”

“Busy. I don’t think I’ll be very sad if our football season ends early when we lose the semi-final next week,” he deadpans

Harry prods him in the ribs with the foot he’s not painting. “Shut up, we’re going to win, and if we don’t, you’ll cry like a baby along with the rest of us.”

Louis giggles. “Yeah, you’re probably right, but I’m getting fed up with the long days and the extra individual practices and coach Henderson calling me or walking into my office three hundred times a day,” he sighs.

“Just one more month, love, then it’ll be all over and you can just gloat about our victory, being the first coach in seven years who took us this far into the championship.”

“I know, I know. Other foot, please?” He paints the other five nails in a comfortable silence before getting up and into the kitchen to finish their dinner. Apparently being in another room, Harry kind of immobile because of his nails still needing to dry, is what it takes to bring up the courage to ask what’s been bothering for two days now. “Hey uhm, Harry, can I ask you something?” he asks as he takes out a pot to cook the vegetables and the grill for the chicken.

“Sure.”

“Would you, uhm, would you like me to be there for your labour? I mean, I don’t want to push you or impose or anything. I was just wondering because we haven’t talked about it yet and…”

“Would you like to be there?” Harry’s voice is much closer than it was last time he spoke, and apparently he decided not to give a shit about his painted nails and is now leaning against the doorframe, both hands supporting his big belly as his back rests against the wood.

Louis sighs. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of days now, and I can’t decide. I do want to support you, you know, especially when you’re in so much pain, but then again, you’ll be in so much pain and I could hardly stand seeing you in pain just the other day, when it was just one contraction. So, I want to know what you want.”

“I think I’d like you to be there. I haven’t given it much thought, to be honest, always just supposed my mum would be there, but I think I’d like you to be there as well. If you want to.”

“Okay, yeah,” Louis smiles. “I’m honored, actually. Thanks for trusting me, love.”

Harry chuckles. “Thank you for being willing to suffer with me. I’m terrible when I’m in pain, but you probably already knew that.”

After that, they kiss for so long that the vegetables have become mush and the chicken is just on the wrong side of slightly burned, but it doesn’t really matter.

 

Harry goes back home after the weekend, though they call every day and Louis makes sure to come by if Harry hasn’t been at school that day. At almost 36 weeks, staying at home becomes more frequent for him, as he’s not sleeping well at night and every effort is too much. Of course he does come to the semi-final on Saturday, even if Anne’s worried about him being in the car for over an hour each way, but she still lets him go with Louis as long as he promises to be careful and call her at least twice throughout the day. It’s a very close call, but they win in the penalties, Liam being carried around the field like the hero he is for catching three out of five balls aimed at his goal. Needless to say they’re in a celebratory mood on the way back, singing along to the radio. Anne invites Louis over for dinner, as usual and he’s grateful for the opportunity of not having to cook after a long day. Both him and Harry are knackered though, so it’s only half eight when he leaves again, their kissing chaste when they say goodbye at the front door. It doesn’t keep Harry from whispering his plans for celebratory sex into Louis’ ear though, making the latter go beet red and hurry out the door to the sound of Harry’s cackling.

 

Harry’s staying at Louis’ again for a week starting on Sunday, and despite really, really wanting to celebrate their place in the finals, Harry’s knackered and all he can do by seven that evening is sleep. Tomorrow, he tells himself when Louis kisses his forehead after tucking him in. On Monday, he is in fact feeling better, even managed to go grocery shopping around the corner and make dinner, but then Louis appears to have brought two guests home. Liam and Niall hug him close and complain about missing him at school and at practice and he can’t really blame them. Between Frodo and Louis, there hasn’t been much time left to spend with his two best friends. They stay and talk his ear off until Louis calls them for dinner, having somehow managed to prepare something for four instead of two out of the ingredients Harry had bought, and watch Netflix and play Fifa after, until Harry’s yawning so loudly that they can’t ignore how much he needs his sleep.

He pays for it on Tuesday, he’s completely given up on going to school by now, and he sleeps past noon. The afternoon’s filled with lying about on the sofa, watching daytime TV and playing Sims 4 on his laptop until he’s bored enough to start bugging Louis, Liam and Niall at school by sending them stupid text messages that are composed of emoticons only. Liam, who got a christmas tree, a burst of confetti and a snowman, just sends back four question marks, followed by “dude, it’s almost easter!” Niall got a monkey scratching his head, a football and a water spouting whale, and Harry gets a string of animals and alcoholic beverages in reply. Louis got the sappiest message of all, of course, with amongst others a gay couple holding hands, heart eyes and a wedding church. Louis sends only one emoticon back, the blow a kiss one, and follows it up with “stop distracting me Styles, love you too, rest some more.” Harry blushes at that. The I love you has been on the tip of his tongue for a couple of weeks now, but he’s made sure not to let it slip yet, afraid that it’s too soon and might scare Louis off. The way Louis goes about it right now is a bit scary. It seems so effortless, but then again, maybe it wasn’t said with that much of a purpose as it was through text. He worries about it for the rest of the afternoon, and is up and at the front door as soon as he hears Louis’ key in the lock.

“Hello,” Louis smirks at him, looking puzzled as to why he’s standing there.

“Did you mean it?” Harry questions, making Louis look up from where he’s untying his shoes.

“Mean what exactly?” His question is slow, making it obvious that he’s not sure what Harry’s talking about.

“That you love me. Well, love me too, that’s what your text said. And I mean, I _do_ love you, but we haven’t really talked about it or even mentioned it and I didn’t want to scare you by saying it, but then now you said you love me too and I just don’t know what to think of it.” Harry rambles, only shutting up when Louis presses his lips against his in a soft kiss.

“You mean you haven’t realised how you always say you love me right before you fall asleep?” he asks warily.

“I do that?” Harry’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush.

“Uhm, yeah for about three weeks now. I thought it was cute, though I was a bit taken aback the first time you said it. But it feels right, and I suppose it was nice not to make a big deal out of it.”

“Oh my god,” Harry groans, hiding his face in his hands. He’s honestly lucky that his hands are so big. “No, I didn’t realise it, and now I’ve been freaking out about you saying it first and through text all afternoon.” Proper embarrassing, that’s what it is.

Louis chuckles and pulls him into a hug. “Hey, it’s fine love, I’ll gladly repeat it in person and out loud if that makes you feel better.” He chuckles some more at Harry’s groan. “Hey, look up at me.” He makes sure Harry’s eyes are locked with his and presses another soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.” It’s soft and lovely and it already feels so normal to hear him say it.

“I love you too.” It’s not foreign on his tongue either, and he supposes that’s to be expected if he’s been saying it for three weeks now. He repeats it, just for good measure, and then wraps up Louis in his arms, both of them giggling as Frodo kicks between them, as if to let them know that there’s a third person who loves them both already.

“I was thinking take-out for dinner tonight? I don’t feel like cooking and I don’t think there’s any pizza left in the freezer. You can choose and make the call, I’m going to take a shower. The showers in the locker rooms are broken again, didn’t fancy a cold one after an entire day of suffering through smelly teen sweat.”

Louis’ only just rinsing out his hair when the bathroom door opens. “What did you order?” he shouts to be heard over the clatter of the water in the shower cabin. In lieu of an answer, he gets a very much naked Harry stepping in under the stream with him, crowding him against the wall and making him gasp at the cold tiles against his back.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before our food gets here,” Harry tells him before leaning in to kiss him. “Figured that would be enough for a quick round of celebratory shower sex.”

Just Harry mentioning that has him half hard already, the dirty kissing and Harry’s hand disappearing between their bodies does the rest of it. It’s more than a little uncomfortable, the shower isn’t very big, and Harry’s stomach is still growing every day, but it’s also hot and steamy, the way they tug off each other while exchanging dirty kisses and a hundred mumbled repeats of their earlier declarations of love. If the delivery guy gives him a weird look when he has to run to open the door, he doesn’t really care. He probably still looks flushed and he was just about to dry off when the bell went, so he just slung the towel around his waist to go and answer it.

Harry’s toweled off but didn’t bother with clothes, joining Louis on the couch to devour the Thai curry he apparently ordered. They spend the rest of the night feeling calm and sated on the couch, talking about school, dreaming about Frodo and making up the weirdest baby names. Sometimes it scares Harry a bit, how he still hasn’t decided on a name for his baby, but his mum told him he’ll know the right name when he has the baby in his arms. She always thought she’d call Gemma Elisabeth until she arrived, so he trusts her on that.

  


Thursday is Harry’s last night at Louis’, at least before the birth, and they’re both quiet because of it. Louis’ made Harry’s favourite dish, a broccoli and cauliflower gratin with grilled chicken and mashed potatoes and Harry’s lit some candles and spread them around the living room and on the table. Louis has the day off on Friday because all of his Friday classes are on a geography fieldtrip so that makes it marginally better, but it still renders them both a little sad.

“It’s gonna be quiet around here,” Louis admits when he’s halfway through his dinner. “I’ll miss having you around.”

Harry throws him a small smile. “I’m going to miss you too. And being here, playing house.”

“You’ll have your hands full though, preparing everything for Frodo arriving, and then when they’re born. You’ll hardly have time to miss me.”

“Shut up, of course I’ll miss you!” Harry protests, demanding they change the subject to something happier after that. There’s trifle for dessert, and after talking until the heating goes out, they finally head to bed, kissing softly and quietly for a long time before they both go to sleep.

 

****

 

His 38th week of pregnancy turns out to be as busy as Louis predicted. It’s not as if Harry doesn’t miss having Louis around, but there’s still so much to do and it’s as if he never even realised half of it up until now. Technically, the baby is ready to be born, and they’ve been in the right position for a couple of weeks now, but they haven’t dropped yet. With how big Frodo is getting, it makes it difficult to breathe properly sometimes and the heartburn he experiences these days is unreal. There’s a bag of almonds and a bowl filled with dry oatmeal on his nightstand at all times, recommended by Ayleen to ease the heartburn a bit, and his mattress is propped up at the head, but even that’s not always enough. He’s honestly getting tired of being pregnant. He loves being able to feel his baby, and he loves to keep them to himself for a little longer, but the physical strain is starting to weigh him down and he just wants to properly meet Frodo. And give them a proper name, even if he’s gotten fond of Frodo by now.

Gemma comes home on Wednesday, right on time for his 38 weeks visit with Ayleen. She comes along, as well as Anne, and Harry would’ve taken Louis with them as well but he had a staff meeting about the upcoming exams so he couldn’t be there. The waiting room is full, as usual, and Harry loves how people keep smiling at him and his rounded belly. He really looks like he’s about to pop now and wherever he goes it makes people turn around to look at him. Most of them just smile, some wish him good luck, some others frown and tut disapprovingly, but he tries not to mind them. The door to Ayleen’s room opens, and Harry recognises the couple coming out, saying goodbye to Ayleen before she calls him in. They’d end up chatting in the waiting room a few months ago, when Ayleen had been late because of one of her clients going into labour right in the middle of her consultations. Katie, the woman’s name was, and she’d been terrified. It was her third pregnancy but she’d lost the first two babies at 10 and 14 weeks. Harry was happy to see she had a lovely bump, and gave her a big smile and a thumbs up in passing. “Thanks,” Katie told him happily. “And good luck, you!”

 

Ayleen examined him once more, confirming that the baby hadn’t fully dropped yet but certainly seemed in the process to do so and instructed them once more about what to do when going into labour.

He could take a bath as long as his waters hadn’t broken, they should call her if he’d had contractions regularly about every five minutes for an hour or if his water broke before she’d confirmed that the baby had dropped. If the latter happened, he had to go and lie down as soon as it happened. He nodded and read along on the paper she handed him to put up on the fridge, trying to remember the most important bits.

“Alright then Harry, I think we’re good to go then. The baby is still happy in there, so all we can do is wait. I’ll come to yours in two weeks, see if there’s any progress, unless you’ve given birth by then of course. I don’t expect it, really, but sometimes thing can suddenly happen really quickly. Have you got any more questions?”

“You don’t think they’ll come before 40 weeks?” Harry asked, feeling a bit desperate, even if he knew not to expect it.

“I’m sorry, love, but no, I don’t think they will. They’ve surprised you once already though, so we can never be sure. Just take some more rest, it’ll do you good, but not too much, make sure you keep moving so it’ll make it easier for them to drop into your pelvis. You’ve been to visit the clinic, right?”

Harry nods, they’d gone over for a short tour of the clinic and to talk about his choice of rooms two weeks earlier, making sure he was at least a bit familiar with the place he’d give birth at.

“Good, I think it’s important that you’ve been there, it helps feeling safe during labour. But of course we won’t go there until it’s almost time for the baby to come, keep you at home as long as possible. We’ve talked about this, right?”

“Yeah, yes, I remember. Thanks Ayleen, waiting is all I can do then…”

“Oh come on Haz, it’ll be fun, mum and I are both home with you to make sure you don’t get bored!” Gemma chimes in an attempt to cheer him up a bit.

“Oh don’t remind me Gems, I’d just gotten used to the peace and quiet without you around!” he teases, having found back his wit and cheek.

Ayleen ushers them out after that, shaking her head fondly at their banter. It’s nice outside, the weather surprisingly pleasant for the end of April and the sun giving off warmth already. The three decide to walk around for a bit longer, giving Harry his exercise needed for the baby to drop, and all three of them the chance to catch up. They end up at a small pub an hour later, snagging the last table outside for drinks and a plate of fish’n chips. It’s nice, Harry thinks, just the three of them together again. It almost makes him forget how impatient he’s getting for the baby to come, almost.

 

Anne and Gemma turn out to be excellent company to kill time. They go for walks each day, giving him a reason to ask Louis to rub his feet when he comes round after school, help him wash the sheets and the baby’s clothes and fold them back into the drawers he’s emptied out to make space for Frodo and help cleaning his room three times, and then the rest of the house after that. Anne tells him to calm down only once, when he throws a fit about a socket in the living room that’s not been baby proofed yet, reminding him that it will be at least six months before the baby can move on its own.

 

On Saturday, the day after he reaches 39 weeks, they throw him a babyshower. Louis is there of course, but he also brings Zayn and Perrie, and a gift from Nick who couldn’t make it, and Niall and Liam and also Mike and Jack from football. His aunt comes down from Manchester, bringing his niece and her boyfriend with them, and before Harry knows, the house is filled with chatter and the living room is about to explode from all the pink and blue decorations along with the gifts everyone’s brought. By the time everyone’s gone home, he’s knackered. He’s definitely grateful that his mum and sister and Louis have organised this, but it was too many people and too many silly games in one afternoon. He’s even more grateful when Louis takes him upstairs, away from the cleaning up and prepares a hot bath for him to relax in. Much to his disappointment, Louis doesn’t get undressed to join him in the bath (though he must admit that they don’t fit very well at this stage of his pregnancy) but the backrub he gives him before going back downstairs more than makes up for it.

By the time he’s fed up with being alone in the hot water, the living room is spotless again, apart from a forgotten streamer in the corner above the door there’s no sign of a babyshower having taken place there. Louis has his football finals the next day, so he goes home after they’ve had sandwiches for dinner, promising he’ll come over as soon as the game is over.

 

When Harry gets up on Sunday, it’s as if he can breathe more freely, and when he looks in the mirror it seems like his stomach has dropped a couple of inches at least. He hopes this means that the baby has finally dropped and even more that it means birth is near. Just not today though, he wants Louis with him and he can’t disturb him today when his team has the finals to play. He’s gutted enough as it is, he really wanted to come and see the game, but both Anne and Ayleen told him it wouldn’t be a very smart thing to get in a car for a 45 minute drive to watch a football game in a big crowd when he’s 39 weeks pregnant. He guesses they’re right, but it doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. There’s still some banana bread left from the day before, and Harry thinks it’s good enough for breakfast, flinging himself on the couch as well as he can with the extra weight he’s carrying and preparing to follow the game through text. The team is going up North by bus, meaning he can text Louis and Liam and Niall as much as he wants until they’re warming up at least, and Louis promised he’d keep him up to date throughout the match. The game doesn’t even start until eleven, which is another hour and a half, but he couldn’t sleep anymore, Frodo kicking around too much to ignore. Harry decides to play tag with them for a bit more in between texting, and when all three contacts send him a text that they’re going to warm up at ten, he’s happy that Gemma’s finally up to watch some Netflix with him. Waiting for game updates turns out to be rather boring, so they just keep on watching Suits while they wait. At interval, the score’s 3-2 for the other team, and from what Harry’s heard, it’s been a wild game so far. It’s only three minutes into the second half when he receives a text from Louis _fcku some sshole tcakled Niall_ and a couple of minutes later comes the next one. _Niall out, his knee is hurt but at least he bastard who tackled him got red_

They don’t manage to score another goal in the second half, but Liam’s been spurred on by Niall being hurt and doesn’t let a ball in either. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really matter, they lose the finals and come home empty handed. He tells Louis on the phone that it’s still the best their team has done for years, but he feels as sad about it as every other member of the team. It’s fucking unfair, they’d worked so hard to get here, and the winning team played it so dirty. But the goals are what count, and their team was two goals short of being champion.

Needless to say there isn’t exactly a celebration when the bus arrives back at the school, so Louis’ already at Harry’s door fifteen minutes after getting off the bus.

“I’m sorry,” Harry starts as soon as he sees his boyfriend, looking defeated and tired.

“‘s not your fault,” Louis shrugs. “Don’t wanna talk about it tonight, will have to analyse the shit out of the game all week anyway, so just, not now.” Harry nods, pulling him closer as Louis sits down behind Harry, his arms around him as they lie down on the couch together. They cuddle quietly for a bit, until Anne comes in to tell them dinner is ready if they’re hungry and go upstairs right after. Louis’s sleeping over tonight as he doesn’t have school until the afternoon and even if he’s in the airbed on the floor because his single bed won’t fit the both of them comfortably anymore, it makes Harry feel better and less lonely.

  


It turns out to be his last good night in a while. The rest of the week, he wakes up every night with contractions, but they never get regular or very painful, so he doesn’t even bother waking up Anne, Gemma or Louis and just tries to catch some sleep during the day, if he’s not experiencing any contractions then. Ayleen comes by on Wednesday and her exam confirms that the baby has dropped, as well as the heart rate is still perfect. Harry asks her to check if anything’s changed yet, but she tells him it’s better to just let it go its own way until at least next week. If the baby’s still inside by then, she’ll feel for dilatation and maybe even loosen the membranes a bit if she can to speed it up a bit.

 

****

  


It’s early the next morning when Harry wakes up with stomach cramps. It feels different from what he’s experienced before, but by now he’s learned not to jump to conclusions, bearing in mind how he’d panicked and called Louis in the middle of the night for Braxton-Hicks contractions and how many times this week alone he’s had contractions. Instead of waking anyone, he runs a bath, breathing through the pain when it comes, about three times before the water reaches the top. The warmth of the water feels good, reaching just over his stomach when he sinks in and lies down as far as he can. It dulls the pain a bit, but doesn’t stop it entirely, contrary to when he’s taken a bath in the last couple of days. The contractions come more frequently, enough to make him scroll through the playstore to download a contraction timer and they seem to get more painful as well. After about half an hour, he can’t seem to find a comfortable position anymore in the tub, so he tries to climb out in between contractions and sits down on the toilet seat to dry off. He talks to his stomach for a bit, finally realising this might be the last day he gets to keep the baby to himself and feeling weirdly sad about that. He breathes through another contraction before he decides it might be time for him to call Louis and wake up Anne. Louis sounds sleepy when he picks up, but is quickly more alert and promises to be there in twenty minutes. Much to his surprise, Anne’s bed is empty, and he finds her puttering around in the kitchen when he makes it down the stairs.

“Hello love, how are you holding up?” she smiles, apparently having been aware of his contractions. “Here, have some water and a biscuit, ‘s important for you to stay hydrated.”

“Thanks mum. How did you know?”

“Harry, my bedroom is next to the bathroom, did you really think I wouldn’t hear you running a bath in the dead of night? Or well, before dawn at least. I didn’t want to disturb you, but I could hear you were in pain so I decided to get up and get things ready downstairs. I’ll stay out of your way if you want me to, I’ll keep myself busy, just let me know if you need anything. Should I call Ayleen?”

“No, not yet, I don’t think. They’re not really regular yet, and I can still easily breathe through them.”

“Okay. I’ll let Louis in when he’s here, don’t worry.”

Harry smiles at her and wanders to the living room, his water bottle in one hand, his phone open on the contraction timer in the other.

Louis kisses him softly when he arrives, but sits down on the couch after that, wanting to be there if he needs him, but not in the way. After a while, he takes his phone from him, noticing how the contractions get more painful and it’s getting more difficult for Harry to simply breathe through them. He loses track of time, only notices how it’s getting brighter outside and the sun is fully up when Ayleen arrives. He doesn’t know who called her or when, is completely wrapped up in his own bubble but is glad to see her. She examines him shortly, just listens to the baby’s heartbeat mostly, and asks if he wants her to feel or not. He shakes his head, doesn’t want anyone touching his body if it’s not completely necessary and is thankful when she nods at that, getting back up from where she’s sitting on her knees in front of him. He hears her talking quietly to Louis, supposes he’s giving him instructions on when to call her back and then comes to see Harry again.

“I’m going now Harry, I’ll be back whenever Louis calls me, feel free to ask him to if you want me here, if you feel like anything’s changing abruptly or something, or if you’re just worried, and if not, I’ll just come back in about two or three hours, alright?”

Harry nods, bracing himself against a chair as he feels another contraction coming.

 

When Ayleen comes back later, the sun is high in the sky, and Harry feels like he’s been reduced to a sweaty mess of a person. The pauses in between contractions are getting shorter and shorter, and he needs Louis’ assistance to be able to breathe through them. It hurts, it hurts so much, and it feels like his stomach won’t ever turn soft again, but as long as he’s moving in between, he can manage, he thinks.

 

Louis is holding Harry up as he’s gripping the chair with one hand, the other hand squeezing Louis’. Over the last hour, the contractions seem to have changed, becoming heavier and more frequent, and honestly, Louis hates to see Harry suffer this much. He knows things will probably get worse after this, but he doesn’t really want to think about that. He looks up when Ayleen enters the living room after Anne’s let her in, and she nods at him after having taken a look at Harry.

“Okay, this looks like it’s going somewhere. Harry, love, I’m going to have a listen to the baby again, alright?” he nods and she kneels down next to him, waiting for the pain to subside before she puts the probe low on his stomach. The sound is on low, but she seems happy with what she hears and quickly puts her equipment away again. “Okay, I know you’re probably more comfortable moving around Harry, but I really want to examine you right now, just to see how far along we are, and what to expect from the next couple of hours.” Harry nods again, breathes his okay and lets Louis help him to the couch where he lies down, a towel underneath his bum and a blanket on top of his legs and over his stomach. He grimaces in discomfort when Ayleen examines him, Louis focusing on her face to see if it’s good news.

“We’re at three and a half, maybe four centimeters now, which I think is quite good for a first pregnancy. I’ll give you another two hours, maybe three before the next exam. We’re going to prepare to go to the clinic when we’re past the five centimeter mark, okay?”

Harry looks happy to hear that as well, and it seems to take away some of his fatigue. Ayleen doesn’t leave again, just installs herself in a corner of the living room with some paperwork and leaves them be.

 

Two hours later finds Harry _in pain._ He can’t keep quiet anymore, and there’s just no comfortable position. He sighs and groans and cries out, and finally agrees to have Ayleen examine him again.

“Okay, Harry, this is going a lot faster than I had expected, to be honest. We’re at seven centimeters right now. We’re going to the clinic,” she tells them as she pulls off her gloves. “It’s not long now love, you’re going to be meeting your baby tonight,” she smiles and pats his shoulder.

Her message has them all in a hurry. Anne runs upstairs to grab Harry’s bag, bringing Gemma along from where she was hiding in her room, Louis gets him a fresh shirt and track bottoms and helps him to Anne’s car, as it’s easier for him to get into than his own. He follows Anne on the way to the clinic, Ayleen driving behind him as he curses at Anne for not hurrying up a bit more. It’s probably good that Harry’s not in his car, because hearing him in pain would’ve made him break more than one traffic law.

 

They’re expecting them when they finally arrive at the clinic, and Louis feels a bit bad for Gemma when they’re all ushered into a room but Gemma has to stay in a waiting room, as they’re only two people apart from the person in labour and the midwife allowed in the room. Harry gets rid of his track bottoms and his shoes as soon as the door’s closed, and looks around the room until he sees the ropes hanging from the ceiling. It seems like a good way for him to ease the pain, hanging on them, and for the next two hours, he switches between the ropes and the hot shower in the other corner.

“Fuck,” he yelps, just after six, attracting the attention of Ayleen who’s still quietly sitting in a corner, and Anne, who’s trying but not succeeding very well to read a magazine. “Ayleen, there’s so much pressure down there,” he wails, and not for the first time Louis wishes he could go through this in his place.

“Do you feel like pushing?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think that’s it. It gets worse at the end of every contraction.”

“Alright, love, let’s get you on the bed for just a second so I can see if you’re ready to push.”

Louis helps him to lie down, gives him some water to drink and wipes his brow with a wet cloth while Ayleen puts on a new pair of gloves. Her eyes start sparkling as she’s still concentrating. “You’re doing so well, the both of you. It’s only been a good twelve hours and you’re ready to push, Harry. Just give in to the urge whenever you feel like it, okay? And remember to breathe.”

“Do I have to stay on the bed?”

“No! No, of course not, you can walk around and hang on the ropes or get into the bath, whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Harry nods and tries for a smile, but it’s obvious he’s in near constant pain now, and he’s mostly dead tired. He gets up and leans on the bed for a while, his arms crossed on the mattress as he pushes through every contraction now. His legs start shaking after fifteen more minutes, his muscles exhausted from an entire day of walking around to ease the pain.

“Shall I get the stool for you?” Harry nods at Ayleen’s question and smiles gratefully when he finally gets to sit down. The thing looks terribly uncomfortable to Louis, but Harry seems relieved by it and that’s what counts, he supposes. He sits down behind Harry, allowing him to lean back against him and grab his hands to squeeze. Anne is somewhere off to the side, looking pale and tired as well as happy and expectant.

It takes another hour before Ayleen looks up from her kneeling position in front of him. “I can see the head, Harry, you’re doing great!” and five minutes later Harry’s cursing and screaming that it hurts and burns so badly. A midwife from the clinic has quietly snuck in and is sitting next to Ayleen as they just wait for the baby to be born. Once the head is out, Ayleen tells him to hold off pushing as she feels for the umbilical cord, then to push gently once more. And there she is. It’s a girl. It’s pretty much the first thing Louis notices, apart from the way she seems to be startled by her own arrival into the world,  when Ayleen hands her to Harry and Harry’s crying and so is his daughter and _fuck_ , Harry has a daughter now. _Frodo is a girl._ She’s lovely, he thinks, even though he used to think that all newborns look the same and mostly rumpled and weird, Harry’s daughter looks beautiful. Must’ve gotten that from her dad, who is visibly tired but also smiling so widely through his tears and exhaustion as he leans back against Louis, unable to tear his eyes away from his girl.

The midwives work quickly to get Harry off the stool and on the bed without disturbing them too much, the now quiet baby still closely tucked to Harry’s chest.

Louis’ pretty much lost in the way she blinks up at her dad, apparently trusting him already to take care of her, judging from the way she stopped her soft crying. Ayleen pulls him out of it by asking if he wants to cut the umbilical cord.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know, don’t you want to do it, Anne? Or Harry? I mean…”

“Go ahead Lou,” Anne encourages him, and Harry just smiles up at him and nods once. He feels strangely proud when he takes the silver scissors from Ayleen and cuts between the clamps on the cord.

Both Louis and Anne are at the head of the bed, admiring Harry and his little girl and losing track of time until Ayleen tells Harry to push once more so the placenta comes out. She takes a quick look at it and throws it away in the bin behind the bed, checking everything one last time before tucking Harry in again.

“Everything seems okay, Harry, so it’s just the paperwork left for me. Is there anything you want me to do before I go?”

“Uhm, if you could just call Gemma in? She’ll want to meet Olivia as well.”

“Is that what you’re calling her?” Ayleen asks.

“Yeah. You were right mum,” he glances up at Anne. “I just knew it was her name as soon as I had her in my arms.”

“It’s a beautiful name, love,” Anne tells him.

“And she’s beautiful as well, prettiest baby I’ve ever seen,” Louis chimes in.

Ayleen says her goodbyes, leaving the room with her bag on her shoulder, and not even a minute later Gemma storms in. “Where is he?” she asks, bewildered.

“ _She_ ’s right here, Gems, I think you’ll need to work on your communication skills when it comes to unborn babies.” Harry tells her.

She looks shocked that Olivia is in fact a girl, but visibly turns to mush as soon as she lays eyes on her. “Oh my god, she’s so cute!” she coos, holding her finger out for Olivia to grip in her small fist.

“Do you want to hold her, you know, being Olivia’s godmother and all?” Harry asks her, and Louis thinks he’s lucky that he just gave birth to the most beautiful creature alive because otherwise Gemma would’ve killed him.

“When were you going to tell me you wanted me to be the godmother H?” she questions, but Harry just grins back at her. “And her name’s Olivia? Oh, Harry, that’s just perfect.”

“I assume that’s a yes to both questions then? You want to hold your goddaughter?”

“Of course, don’t be stupid little bro. Come on, give her up!” She sounds more brash than she acts, luckily, shoves her arm under Harry’s to pick her up as gently as she can.

As soon as Gemma’s holding her, immediately wrapped up in her own world as she coos at Olivia, Harry deflates. The hormones that had taken over after birth have apparently worn off a bit, and he looks nothing less than exhausted. Anne goes to find a nurse, who comes in soon after to help him into another bed so they can be moved into another ward for the night.

Olivia’s back in Harry’s arms for the trek down the hospital’s hallways, and the other three each carry a bag of Harry’s stuff.

“One of you can stay, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask the other two to leave in a bit,” the nurse says apologetically when she’s wheeled Harry’s bed into place. “There’s a sofa bed over there, I’ll bring in some blankets when I come back to check on you in ten minutes.”

“Will you stay, please Lou?” Harry pleads, and if Louis can hardly refuse him anything under normal circumstances, how would he ever be able to say no right now?

Anne and Gemma say their goodbyes, promising to be back in the morning so they can take Harry and Olivia home in the afternoon and then it’s just the three of them left. Harry obviously can’t keep his eyes of Olivia, and if Louis’ being honest, neither can he. She’s still really alert, and she keeps looking up at Harry with the kindest look he’s ever seen on a baby. After half an hour or so, she’s fussing a bit, so Louis calls the nurse to help Harry with feeding, during which Olivia finally seems to get tired.

“I think I’ll be up all night staring at her,” Harry whispers when she’s fallen asleep.

“Well, she is beautiful,” Louis admits. “But you’re exhausted, love, try and get some sleep as well, you’ll have time enough to admire her later on.”

“I know, I know.”

 

By five o’clock on Friday, Harry is wheeled out of the hospital with Olivia in his arms. He’s honestly terrified to put her in the baby carrier in the back seat and wants nothing more than to at least sit next to her, but he’s all sore so he tells Gemma to watch her like a hawk instead as he goes to sit in the front next to Anne.

He should’ve expected it, probably, but he’s still surprised when Niall and Liam are waiting for them at his house, carrying a giant teddy bear with Olivia’s name on a heart shaped pillow. He doesn’t even know how they managed to get that this quickly, but he’s melting anyway.

Anne makes sure he and Olivia are comfortable on the couch before she trails off to make everyone tea, and Harry smiles up at his friends. “The two of you already competing on who’s going to be the best godfather? I mean, there’s bound to be some competition with two godfathers, right?”

Louis guffaws at their faces, since apparently Harry hadn’t informed them either.

“Sorry guys, but I really couldn’t choose between the two of you, so yeah, you’ll have to share.”

  


There’s a steady stream of visitors over the next couple of days, spreading out over the first month of Olivia’s life. Louis comes by every night, sleeps with them half the time even if his back doesn’t really agree with the airbed he has in Harry’s room. It’s just past four o’clock when he comes back from school in early June and he notices a tall guy hanging around Harry’s house. “Hey, can I help you?” he asks, trying to be polite and keep the fierce lion he’s discovered within himself ever since Olivia was born down.

“Uhm, this is Harry’s place, yeah? Harry Styles?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Uhm, ‘m Jamie, a friend of Harry’s, I heard he had a baby last month so I thought…”

“Jamie, huh. Would that be the same “friend of Harry’s”” Louis emphasises his words with air quotes, “who asked him to get an abortion at Christmas break?”

The way Jamie pales is enough of an answer. “Listen, _pal,_ I’d get the hell out of here if I were you, neither Harry or Olivia want anything to do with you.”

“Is that what she’s called, Olivia?”

Louis sighs, mad at himself for giving Jamie that bit of information. “She is, and she’s beautiful and looks nothing like you. Now fuck off and stop pretending you give a shit.”

Jamie’s obviously relieved by being told to go away, can’t run fast enough. Louis watches him turn the corner before he uses his key to let himself into Harry’s house.

He doesn’t tell Harry about his encounter with Jamie until months later, and Harry can’t stop laughing at it, saying that now he understands the weird card he got from Jamie and his parents in June.

  
Harry feels as if being a dad is the one role he was cut out for. He simply loves it. It’s like having a kid was the piece that was missing for him to become who he was meant to be. He loves taking care of Olivia, be it feeding her, changing diapers or carrying around in a sling or a baby carrier to ease her stomach cramps. He doesn’t sleep very much, but it’s all worth it. The fact that Louis seems to be as infatuated with his little girl as he is, makes it even better. He hasn’t been happier in his life.


	2. You're a wanker number nine!

The first months of Olivia’s life feature the very typical English weather, rather chilly for summer and it rains more often than not. Harry’s not really complaining, though, deep down he just loves cocooning with his little girl and the fact that Louis is staying over most of the time is just an added bonus. By the end of July though, he is pretty much ready for more sun, warmth and an opportunity to take Olivia out for a walk where he doesn’t have to run back after five minutes because it’s started to pour down. 

Luckily for him, and by extension the entirety of England, August brings sun, and even temperatures above 25 degrees. The first couple of days are spent outside, a large umbrella providing cover from the sun and a small kiddie pool refreshment for Harry’s feet. Louis is making up for lost time with Nick and Zayn who both have some time off at work, but still comes home to Harry to sleep on the airbed every night. Harry thinks he could get used to it, though he agrees that it would be nice to be able to go and use the toilet without having to take the baby with him, since Gemma’s working this month and Anne’s back to her regular shifts so he’s mostly home alone.

However, he still does a double take when Louis presents him with an offer of a quiet afternoon out, just the two of us. Even when he explains how Anne and Gemma have agreed on taking Olivia to the park for a couple of hours so that they can go out together, or stay in, whatever he prefers, Harry’s not at all convinced. It takes Louis an hour of discussing and providing various reasons to agree with the plan for it to work, and when that particular Sunday arrives, he’s still not entirely happy about it.

It’s a particularly sunny day, the sun is blazing hot and pretty much everyone is praying for the forecasts to be right about the thunderstorms that would pass the coming night. Anne is calmly packing a bag with all the things she might need on an afternoon out with Olivia, and Harry is hovering nearby, Olivia in her baby carrier on his chest. 

“Did you pack enough milk? It’s warm so she might want more than usual, did you take the bags from the freezer too or only the one in the fridge?”

“I’ve got four bottles in the bag Harry, that should be more than enough for half a day, even if she’s more thirsty in this weather,” Anne replies calmly.

“Okay, and you’ve got enough nappies? You know she hates having a wet diaper, she needs to be changed at least every hour or so.” Harry presses. Olivia appeared to be allergic to the store bought nappies, so about three weeks after she was born, they had switched to cloth diapers. She didn’t get any diaper rash again, and Harry thought the cute designs were definitely a bonus. The only negative fact was that Olivia was more aware of it when the cloth got wet and she definitely didn’t like that.

“I’ve got six, Harry.”

“Remember to take an umbrella, are you taking the carrier or the stroller? Maybe you should take the stroller, I think it’s a bit cooler for her, don’t want her to overheat when going outside.”

“Harry!” Louis interferes. “Your mum knows how to take care of a baby, love. You might not have noticed, but she managed to raise both you and Gemma, and I’d like to think that at least with you she did a magnificent job.”

“Hey!” Gemma interjects, gesturing to Anne to correct him but she merely rolls her eyes and continues checking the bag she’s packing.

“So,” Louis continues, ignoring Gemma even if she starts punching his upper arm, “I really think they’ll be okay taking care of Olivia for one afternoon.”

“But!” Harry starts, but is cut off by Anne who ties the strings on Olivia’s bag and puts it on the floor.

“Harry, I get that you’re worried. I know I was scared to death the first time I left either of you, but it will be fine. We know Olivia, she knows us, and we’re just taking her to the park for a walk and maybe let her practice her rolling skills on a blanket on the lawn,” she holds up her hand when she sees Harry wants to add something, “under an umbrella, of course.” Harry sighs and bites his lip. “We will call you if anything out of the ordinary happens, and if not, you’ll find us here when you and Louis get back at six.”

If it hadn’t been for Louis physically taking Olivia out of the carrier, handing her over to Gemma and taking Harry by the arm to get him in the car, they probably wouldn’t have made it out of the house at all. Even in the car, Harry keeps voicing his worries about leaving his daughter with his mum and sister, and if Louis didn’t think it was cute, he would never even have left and given up on his plans for the afternoon.

Harry had decided he wanted to go out, leaving their exact destination for Louis to decide as he thought everything would be a nice change to doing nothing like he had been doing all summer already. 

 

It takes a fifteen minute drive to end up in front of the building that Harry recognises as the one where Nick lives. One of the perks of his job was the housing his boss provided him with, a posh flat in an secluded area with a private outdoor pool, an indoor gym and a rooftop bar available for parties in the summer. 

“Nick’s given me his keycard,” Louis explains as they walk in, passing the corridor leading to the elevators and the first floor flats and going straight for the courtyard where the swimming pool is. “Most of his neighbours are either working or on holiday at some tropical destination, so I thought it would be more quiet for a swim here than at the pool in the city or the swimming pond in the park.”

That’s actually a nice thought, Harry thinks. He’s still a bit insecure about his body, as his stomach isn’t as flat, let alone toned, as it used to be and some of his stretch marks are still an angry red. It’s not that he minds walking around shirtless around the house or at Louis’ flat, but doing that in public is an entirely different story. Just like Nick had told Louis, nobody is around at this time of the day, and the clear blue water looks wonderfully refreshing. They both quickly change into their swimming shorts and dive in.

The afternoon turns out wonderfully quiet and relaxed as they alternate between swimming and relaxing on the sunbeds around the pool, Anne doing the necessary to keep Harry from worrying too much by sending hourly picture updates. There’s one of Olivia happily playing with the toys over her head in the stroller, wearing nothing but a nappy and a thin white T-shirt, another where she’s sitting on the lawn, trying to figure out what to do with the ball Gemma rolled towards her, one where she’s greedily drinking her bottle and the last one where’s she peacefully asleep.

“I still can’t get over how much she looks like you,” Louis remarks as he’s looking at the pictures over Harry’s shoulder. 

“Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don’t really see it. To me, she just looks like herself.”

“She has your dimples, and the shape of your eyes and your mouth. I mean, you’ve got to see the resemblance when you compare her to your old baby pictures.”

Harry shrugs. “Yeah, a bit. Doesn’t really matter to me though, she’s the prettiest baby ever and that’s what counts.”

“You’re a sap, Styles!” Louis teases, taking Harry’s phone out of his hand and pulling him into the pool with him. They’re both too tired and lazy because of the heat and the sun to swim much, and end up leaning against the tile wall of the pool, kissing and cuddling languidly until Louis’ alarm alerts them that it’s time to dry off and head back. 

Back in the car, Harry’s worried dad-modus kicks in again, and he’s visibly relieved when he finds Olivia soundly sleeping in Gemma’s arms, waking up only when he sits down next to them and starts stroking her cheek. 

  
  


****

 

By the time Olivia’s turned one, both she and Harry have become a near permanent fixture in Louis’ flat. There’s just more space for them there, and Harry took pity of Louis sleeping on the airbed when school started again. They’ve moved back and forth every week for a month or two, but Harry can count the nights he’s spent in his mum’s house over the last six months on one hand. They’re practically living together, even though they haven’t made anything official yet. 

Harry’s actually graduating soon, and he’s enrolled in a community college nearby, so he doesn’t have to move away from Louis or his Olive, as he’s started to call her more often than not. He sometimes thinks of how different his life would’ve been if he’d gotten the scholarship for Cambridge that Liam got now, but he doesn’t have any regrets. He wouldn’t trade Olivia for the world. 

Right now, Harry’s having a quiet Saturday afternoon in. Louis has taken Olivia shopping for something to wear to his graduation, as if she doesn’t have enough clothes as it is. He’s taken a bath and just took advantage of the opportunity to lie down on the couch with a book when his mobile beeps. 

_ what do you think? _ reads Louis’ message, and there’s a picture of Olivia in a hot pink dress with cats all over it attached, her bright three-toothed smile cheering Harry up like nothing else ever can. 

_ buy it! _ he sends back

_ Consider it done! By the way, Gemma’s coming over to babysit, we’re going out on a date! _

Harry smiles at that. It’s only the second or third time they’ve gone out by themselves since Olivia was born, usually they just take her with them, but it’s always nice to have Louis just for him, he thinks.

They text back and forth for a bit, until Harry is fairly certain about what to wear and Louis’ attention is needed to avoid a shopping disaster involving Olivia and clothing racks being pulled over. Ever since she’s learned how to walk, nothing’s safe around her anymore. 

All it takes is two more messages to Gemma, a look on the clock telling him he’s got an hour of rare me-time left before he has to go and get ready. 

He’s standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide which shirt is best on his black skinnies, and if he should leave them partly unbuttoned or not, when the front door opens and he hears Olivia coming in. She’s running as fast as her little legs will carry her, which isn’t very fast, all the while babbling her best attempt at ‘daddy’ (or that’s what Harry takes it for as she keeps repeating da da da all day long) and finally collides with his legs, lifting her arms as her way to ask to be picked up. 

“Hey Olive!” Harry greets her, lifting her up to sit on his arm as he walks into the living room where he finds Louis, already unloading shopping bags and sorting his purchases in different piles for different rooms. He kisses him on the lips quickly and throws him a pointed look when he sees yet another bag from Toys R Us on the floor next to Louis’ shoes. He simply gets a scowl back so he rolls his eyes and takes Olivia to the kitchen to get her some food before they drop her off at Gemma’s.

He’s in the middle of fixing her a plate with sliced fruit and veggies and a piece of chicken breast that was left from yesterday’s dinner when Louis comes inside to wrap his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss behind Harry’s ear. “Hmmm, you smell nice. Big plans for tonight, huh?” he teases.

“I kinda do, yeah, ‘s why I asked Gemma to take Olive for the night.” he turns around briefly from where he’s cutting up an apple, right on time to see the surprise bloom on Louis’ face. He recovers quickly though, abandoning Harry at the counter to go and sit next to Olivia’s high chair. “Ooooh, Livvy-lovvy, you’ve got a sleepover at auntie Gemma’s tonight!” The little girl’s eyes widen as she mirrors his own expression before she starts clapping her hands excitedly. Ever since she got to understand more of the outside world, Olivia and Gemma have been thick as thieves, they love each other’s company and are often found giggling and playing together when they get the chance. “Well, in that case I don’t think I’ll have to take you with me when I shower, auntie Gemma will be happy enough to be able to bathe you tonight!” He gives her and Harry another quick kiss before heading towards the shower, coming out freshly washed and dressed to the occasion of their date right when Olivia is clearing the last piece of strawberry off her plate. 

“Hmmm, I love your scruff,” Harry tells him as he moves into his space for a split second, nosing along his jaw before taking Olivia’s plate to the dishwasher and freeing her from her bib after cleaning her hands with it. 

“I know,” Louis winks. “Are we ready then?”

“Hmm-hmm, Olive’s bag is in her room, I just have to put on my shoes and I’m good to go.”

“Alright then Livvy,” he fakes a groan when he lifts her out of her chair, “let’s go find your bag and put your shoes back on so we can get you to your bff!”

“Da-da!” Olivia agrees, running to the hall where Louis catches up with her, her overnight bag in one hand. 

The fact that it takes only ten minutes to drop Olivia off at Gemma’s is a testimony to Harry’s growth as a father. By now, he knows he can trust Gemma with his daughter, that she knows how to take care of her, and that Olivia has enough of a character to make herself clear if she needs anything or doesn’t like something.

Once they’re back in the car, Louis informs him that they have a reservation at a restaurant nearby, but the rest of the evening and night are still free for spontaneous plans. It’s indeed a short drive, and Harry barks out a laugh when he sees the restaurant Louis chose. It’s the same Italian place where they had their first (rather disastrous) date and not much has changed over the past year. They chat through their meals, sharing a delicious chocolate cake with tiramisu flavoured ice cream for dessert and have just ordered their tea when Louis clears his throat. 

“Uhm, you might remember our last date here, when I asked you an important question and that didn’t go so well. Yet, here we are, we’ve celebrated our first anniversary a few months ago, you’re graduating in a couple of weeks, Olivia is turning one next week. So, uhm, I actually thought tonight was a good time to ask you another question.” Harry’s smile drops and the giggles that had started pouring from his mouth cut off abruptly. When Louis reaches into his pocket to fish something out, he’s pretty sure his heart stops beating entirely, and he can see himself lying unconscious on the floor, waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

“So, I was wondering, since the two of you are almost always at my flat anyway, if you wanted to make it official and move in with me,” he finishes, shoving Harry’s own key to Louis’ flat across the table. Harry’s heart starts up again and he reminds himself to breathe.

“Is that my key?” he wonders out loud.

“Yeah, might’ve stolen it from your key ring this morning, but I couldn’t exactly ask my landlord to join us so we could put your name on the lease…”

Another giggle escapes Harry’s lips. “You’re an idiot!”

“An idiot who’s still waiting for an answer, if I may remind you!” Louis scolds playfully, because of course he knows the answer.

“Oh Lou!” Harry grabs Louis’ hand in his own, still amazing Louis by how his large hands dwarf his own, “Of course I want to move in with you, and miss Olivia as well.”

“Good,” Louis smiles, waiting until Harry has put his key back on his keyring where it belongs, now more than ever.

Unlike last time they dined here, they keep on talking and joking until Louis covers the bill and they get up to go home. Harry absolutely doesn’t blush furiously when Louis helps him into his jacket and leans in to whisper “Now let’s go home, I think I’ve got room for one more dessert,” before he shoots the maitre d’ a polite and pleasant smile when he keeps the door open for them. 

The drive home is spent in a tense silence, Louis faking nonchalance where his grip on Harry’s upper thigh tells him otherwise. As soon as they’re inside, Louis backs Harry up against the wall, shoving his jacket off his shoulders while hungrily attacking his lips. It’s not that they never get to have sex with Olivia around, but it takes some planning and they definitely never get to do it all around the house. In fact, they did that once, but vowed to never do so again when Olivia went to wake up Louis in the morning with his pants on her head as a hat, after she’d apparently found them under the couch. Tonight though, it’s just them and they’ll make sure to remove all traces before they pick up Olivia in the morning. Their shoes land somewhere near the couch, as well as Louis’s jacket and the shirt he unbuttoned halfway before deciding to pull it over his head. Harry’s own shirt had only three buttons fastened, so it’s easily shed when Louis walks him backwards into the bedroom, still kissing him deeply. Harry moans into Louis’ mouth when his hands find Harry’s nipples. They aren’t as sensitive as they were when he was pregnant, but they’re still one of his most erogenous spots, so when Louis pinches and twists them in his fingers, it does  _ things. _ In another life, in another relationship, Harry would probably be embarrassed by how easily this gets him going, but this is Louis, and he  _ loves  _ Louis, and Louis loves him and they just know each other so well after such a relatively short time it doesn’t even matter. Louis moans loudly when he shoves his hands down Harry’s trousers, grabbing two handfuls of his ass and pulling him close to his own body.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re wearing the black lace thing again?” he asks breathily, though he obviously already knows the answer.

“Yeah,” Harry breathes back, making quick work of unbuttoning Louis’ jeans and shoving them down his thighs, cock twitching when only the thin material of Louis’ cotton briefs keeps it restrained. “I know you like it, and I love how they feel on me.” He grunts when he can’t get Louis’ jeans past his knees, “Come on! get them off!” and Louis looks like he wants to smirk but it’s wiped off his face as soon as Harry presses the heel of his hand against the base of his dick. “You too,” he orders while making quick work of losing his trousers, and when he’s at it, might as well ditch his pants as well. Harry scrambles onto the bed, moving backwards until he’s sitting up against the headboard, waiting until Louis joins him. Louis crawls over to him in an almost predatory way, the blue in his eyes almost completely suppressed by his blown pupils. He looks Harry up and down, gaze lingering on Harry’s red kissed lips and on his crotch where his now fully hard cock obscenely tents the black lace of the boy shorts he’s wearing. 

Harry reaches over to the bedside table to grab a hair tie, quickly fixing his long curls into a messy bun while Louis starts mouthing along his jaw. “You look so fucking filthy in them, it gets to me every time,” Louis breathes into his ear. “Turn around,” he asks, adding “please?” as an afterthought. 

He does as he’s asked, rather eagerly, because he knows what the black lace does to Louis, and he knows that Louis loves nothing more than to eat him out when he’s wearing them. By now, he’s so hard that his head has slipped past the waistband and it’s smearing precome where it’s pressed against the skin of his stomach. When he’s finally on hands and knees, it takes Louis all but three seconds to push his nose into the lace stretching across his arse. He nuzzles there for a bit, muttering praise while he does so, his hands caressing where the shorts end and make way for his milky white skin. “So precious,” he mumbles as he moves the fabric aside so he can rub his nose in the crack of Harry’s arse, pulling his cheeks apart before licking over his hole. Harry moans loudly, lapping up the praise Louis keeps spouting between licks over and around his hole, teasing and playing the way he knows winds Harry up beyond control. Harry’s reduced to a mess when Louis finally decides he can’t reach enough and shoves the shorts down his thighs, helping Harry get rid of them before diving right back in. He licks over his hole once more before putting his lips over it and sucking lightly, pressing his tongue inside when he sees Harry clench around thin air. Harry moans loudly, but it’s not until Louis is properly fucking into him with his tongue that he finds his words again and pleads for more.

“Please Lou, please, I need more! I need you!”

“I’ve got you, love,” Louis reassures him before leaning over to his bedside table to grab the bottle of lube and a condom. He quickly slicks up three fingers, and presses his index finger inside up to the first knuckle, holding Harry’s hips with his free hand to prevent him from fucking back onto his finger. “You’re so eager babe, I love it,” he mutters, but his words are drown out by Harry’s loud moan when he adds another finger. Harry’s eager and pliant, but it’s been awhile since they’ve taken their time to do this, so there’s probably a bit of a burn and stretch to it. He knows Harry loves that, though, so he doesn’t worry too much and easily agrees to add another finger when Harry asks for it. It’s a tight fit, and he takes his time fucking his fingers in and out, moving them around to stretch Harry’s rim thoroughly without giving him the satisfaction he’s looking for by pressing into Harry’s prostate. He’ll keep that for later. He does release his grip on Harry’s hip, admiring the red blotches his fingers left there and allows him to fuck back onto his fingers for a bit, until he pulls out. He watches Harry’s hole clench around nothing in awe, still not over how wonderful it all is with this boy, and reaches back for where he dumped the condom earlier. “No, no need,” Harry brings out, gripping his wrist when he notices what Louis is about to do. “Please Lou, I want to feel you,” he begs. “Are you sure?” Louis questions, knowing full well how risky this is. They’re not ready for another kid, not by far. They’ve done it without a condom once before, but they’d thoroughly calculated everything and made sure Harry had taken his pills like he should’ve for a month before they risked it.

“Yeah, I’m sure, it’s safe, come on, please Lou, I want to feel you so bad!” Harry begs and Louis only has that much resolve so he throws the condom back where he found it and slicks up his dick instead. He’s lining himself up when Harry stops him again. “Wait, I want to see you,” is all he says before moving around, lying down on his back with a pillow under his hips in all but five seconds. It’s all done before he so much as blinks, and Harry pulls him in with his legs wrapped around Louis’ back. “Fuck,” he breathes out and lines himself up, slowly pushing in. Their sex is great with a condom, but Louis has to admit that without the flimsy rubber barrier, it’s even better. Harry’s heat engulfs him completely, and even after his thorough prep, he’s still tight around his dick. Harry moans loudly as he pushes in, adding another grunt when he bottoms out. Louis leans down to capture his lips in a kiss, finding that it’s been too long since they’ve done that already. 

“Move, Louis, please, come on!” Harry pleads when he pulls away for air, and so he does. He moves slowly, fucking in and out of him, watching his cock disappear into Harry’s body time and time again. The room is filled with moans and groans and whispered words of praise and love, and it’s all Louis can think of. 

“Fuck, ‘m close,” Harry moans, and Louis thinks he actually deserves a medal for lasting so long, but he just nods and speeds up his thrusts a bit, growing sloppy as he too feels like he’s nearing the edge. He lowers his torso down onto Harry’s, trapping his leaking cock in between their stomachs for extra friction and that’s all Harry needs to curl his toes, arch his back and seize up with the power of the orgasm surging through him. Louis fucks him through it as Harry’s come paints their skin, smiling down at Harry when he finally opens his eyes. 

“I love you so much,” Harry whispers, capturing Louis’ lips in another kiss while he sneaks a hand around his back, reaching in between his cheeks to press a dry finger against his rim. It’s all Louis needs to come as well, collapsing on top of Harry when his arms give out and needing a minute to catch his breath.    
Quite frankly, they’re a filthy mess, but they can’t care less, cuddling up close once Louis pulls out and ignoring their need for a shower and fresh sheets for another fifteen minutes, when it’s all dried and sticky and gross. They quickly share a shower, too fucked out to do much more than kiss lazily under the hot water and Louis volunteers to clear the living room of any dumped clothes and other proof of their lustfest while Harry changes the sheets and puts the old ones in the washing machine.

When he enters the bedroom again, Louis is already between the sheets, has his contacts switched for his glasses and his damp hair falls across his forehead. Harry quickly climbs in with him, snuggling up close and resting his head on Louis’ chest. Louis hand is toying with his hair, making him hum softly in appreciation.

“Haz?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you think I was going to ask you at the restaurant? You looked as if you saw a dead person.”

Harry hides his face into Louis chest, the smattering of hair tickling his nose. “Thought you were going to propose,” he pushes the words out quickly and lowly, vainly hoping that Louis wouldn’t catch them.

“Oh, and the idea of marrying me strikes you with horror!? Well, that’s nice to know!”

“No,” Harry shouts, smacking Louis on the stomach lightly. “I just think it’s a bit soon, ‘s all.”

“Oh. So uhm, if I were to ask you to marry me, say, like, in a year, maybe two or three, you would say yes?”

“Hmm, yeah, probably. Want to graduate uni first though, do something in the proper order for once.”

“I think having a long engagement has perks also,” Louis teases, and Harry simply smiles, kissing him softly before he takes off his glasses and turns out the light.

“Good night, boo,”

“Good night, enjoy the undisturbed night and morning, we only have to get up at ten, imagine that,” Louis replies around a yawn.

“I don’t think I fully understand the concept of sleeping in anymore, but I sure will enjoy,” Harry smiles in the dark. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

 

****

 

Harry’s first year at uni is hard. In a couple of years, he might look back on it and laugh about it, but while he’s still in the middle of it all, it’s just fucking hard. He kind of expected it to be a little harder than finishing high school had been, but it turned out to be an entirely different league. He’s lucky Olivia gets to go to the daycare facilities at uni, or he might not ever see her while she’s awake. He has classes, a bunch of work to prepare for them and papers to write and exams to study for. Then there’s his part time job at Tesco’s to be able to pay his share of the rent and the food and daycare, and last but not least Olivia and Louis who need and deserve his attention as well. 

Olivia’s second birthday is right before his exams, and while they contemplated putting her party off for another month, it didn’t feel right. So Liam and Niall come back home from where they’re studying to see their goddaughter, Gemma and Anne take the day off at work and both Louis and Harry get up early in the morning to decorate the living room where the small party will be held. Once they’re done putting up the garlands and every surface is covered with Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck, Harry manages to put together a festive breakfast before Olivia lets herself be heard through the baby monitor. Louis goes to get her from her crib and freshens her up a bit before getting dressed for their birthday breakfast. 

“Happy birthday Olive!” Harry coos as soon as they enter the kitchen, planting a party hat on Olivia’s mess of curly hair that Louis forgot to brush. He kisses her sweetly and takes her from Louis, hugging her close on the way to her high chair. The both of them sing happy birthday while Olivia grins at them, looking longingly to the plate of eggs that’s on the table in front of her as soon as they finish singing. 

She’s usually a very happy and easy-going kid, though she bursts with energy and is always a handful, but there’s nothing she loves more than talking and eating. She eats pretty much everything they offer her, is not picky at all, though Harry thinks that might change in the future, and when she’s not eating, she’s talking. Non stop. Her vocabulary is quite large for a two year old, and she loves the fact that her parents understand her now, obviously wants to make the most of it too. 

“Today Olivvy birthday!” she exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly once she’s finished her eggs. “Auntie Gemma coming daddy?”

“Yes, Olive, auntie Gemma will be here in the afternoon, as well as your grandma Anne, and Niall and Liam.”

“Why not Jay and Lottie?” she asks, pouting at Louis. 

He chuckles. “My sisters all have big important exams coming up, Livvy, like your daddy?” Olivia nods seriously, as if she understands what he’s talking about. “They live too far to come over for just one afternoon, but in the summer we’ll have another party with my mum and Dan, and Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe, Daisy, Ernie and Doris there as well, alright?”

She seems to contemplate the compromise and finally nods decisively. “Okay. Olivvy call them on puter morrow?”

“Sure, we’ll call them tomorrow baby, I’ll let them know so they can all talk to you on the computer.”

She seems satisfied with that answer and makes grabby hands at Harry for him to pick her up. “Pick up pick up pick up daddy! Wanna play cars!” As soon as her feet hit the ground, she takes off to the living room, pulling out the box where she keeps her toy cars and not five minutes later she’s racing them through the living room, talking about “Mickey Mow” and “Donduck” as she goes. 

The party is fun and easy going, and Harry manages to forget about his exams for the entire day, just enjoys spending time with his family and friends, celebrating his beautiful girl. 

  
  


****

 

His third year of uni is the year that everything finally gets a bit easier. He’s now used to the way things work at uni, he’s got less classes, though that’s made up for by more papers to be written and projects to be made. Olivia is getting older and more and more independent, and he and Louis really share parenting responsibilities. About three months before her fourth birthday, Olivia decided she wants to call Louis papa, simply rolling her eyes at their moist eyes when she told them as much. It just made more sense to her, Louis isn’t any different than Harry in being a parent, so he deserves it. 

It’s also the year he’s started playing football again. The team at his university isn’t very good, and they don’t have any sports scholarships or anything, but it’s all good fun and he loves playing again. Louis is still the assistant coach at his former high school, but the team isn’t doing very well since their second place the year Olivia was born, all star players having graduated. Harry and Olivia both attend his games once in awhile, but if they’ve got something else to do they’ll do that instead. 

Whenever Harry has a game though, Louis makes sure him and Olivia can come to see him play. It only happens once a month or even less, but they like to make a family outing of it, and Louis doesn’t deny he enjoys seeing Harry running around in his kit. 

It’s a sunny Saturday in March when Harry finds them in the bleachers while he runs onto the field. It’s only a friendly game against a team he’d never even heard about before today, but he always loves it when his family is there to spur them on. They’re easy to recognise in the small crowd of supporters, both wearing their jerseys that have his name and number nine on them. He waves at them and blows them a kiss as he jogs towards the middle of the field, ready to toss the coin and start the game. 

It’s a slow game, neither team is very competitive, and at some point it seems more like a nice run in the sun than an actual football game. Sometime in the second half though, Harry manages to grab the ball from the visiting team, running towards the opposite goal while dodging past two or three defenders. He ends up in front of the goal on his own, checks out where the keeper’s looking at and shoots. The ball bounces off the right goal post, but luckily one of his teammates managed to run along and kicks the ball into the nets after all. 

“You’re a wanker number niiiiiiiiine!” he hears a familiar voice shouting from somewhere to his right. He fixes Louis with a glare, but he simply shrugs and points at Olivia, pretending he has nothing to do with her shouting profanities. As if he didn’t spend the entirety of the other games Harry played trying to teach Olivia how to shout so that she would be heard and rehearsing the statement in question with her. He can’t help smiling back when he sees the two of them grin though, and easily blows them a kiss before resuming the game. Louis’ just lucky he loves him so much that he will even tolerate him teaching his daughter such atrocities.

 

As requested by Olivia, they get take away Chinese that evening, and watch Imagine me and You for the umpteenth time. Harry’s not sure if she even understands the plot of the movie, but she loves it regardlessly, and she’s always in stitches when Luce and Rachel go out on a date, shouting her favourite phrase at the football game and going dancing at the luna park. 

Much to Harry’s surprise, there’s no protest from Olivia when Louis tells her to get to bed when it’s time, even though the film isn’t finished yet. 

She goes to brush her teeth and changes into her pajamas in the bathroom, following Louis into her bedroom when Harry gets up to clean up around the living room, taking their plates into the kitchen and throwing the trash out. After about ten minutes, usually the time it takes to tell Olivia her bedtime story and talk through the day they’ve had and the plans for the next, Louis comes to fetch him to give her a goodnight kiss. 

He’s a bit distracted by the text he just got from Niall, talking about a girl he’s apparently rather serious about and that’s why he doesn’t immediately notices something is off when he enters Olivia’s room. When he finally does look up, she’s not under her covers, but sitting on her bed amidst what seems at least fifty sunflowers (his favourite) and holding a small box in her left hand. On her right, there’s a picture frame with a photo collage of memorable moments of the past five years. Harry frowns at the sight in front of him, spinning around when he hears Louis clearing his throat in the doorway. 

“Uhm, Olivia and I, we uhm, we want to ask you something, actually,” Louis tells him, wringing his hands the way he only does when he’s really nervous and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Oh?”

“Please, marry papa, daddy? That way you get to look pretty in a suit and papa too, and I get to be a flowergirl with a pretty dress! Papa told me! Please?” Olivia blurts out, unable to contain her excitement any longer.

“Lou!” Harry manages to bring out before he completely chokes up. His sight turns blurry, but he can still see how Louis picks up the box from Olivia’s hand and gets down on one knee.

“We’ve talked about this, a long, long time ago, and I know you want to graduate first, but I didn’t want to wait any longer to ask. I don’t mind if we have a long engagement, I just want to make sure you’re mine to keep forever. Harry Styles, would you please, pretty pretty please with cherries on top, marry me?”

“You’re an idiot!” Harry sobs. “Of course I’ll marry you!” He pulls Louis up and into a kiss, registering how Olivia is jumping around on her bed in glee. She probably won’t get to sleep for hours now, but he loves how Louis got her involved in his proposal. They’re a family, and she’s as much a part of their engagement and wedding as they are. 

Harry insists they take a trip to city hall a couple of weeks later, arranging everything for Louis to be Olivia’s legal father as well, making their family official.

 

****

 

It ends up to be Harry who pushes their wedding date forward. He still has another year of uni to complete, but he figures it wouldn’t matter if they were married or still engaged for it. Of course there’s no mountains of money so they keep it small, and after about six months of planning, the day is finally there. It’s a Saturday in May and the weather has been lovely for a couple of weeks now. Olivia celebrated her fifth birthday the week before, they didn’t want to steal her thunder even if they really wanted a May wedding. It’s early in the morning, too early for either of them, and probably for every normal person, when Harry’s alarm clock sounds, alerting him that it’s time to shower, wake up Olivia and head to his mum’s place. Sleeping separately had felt stupid, since they live together for almost five years now, but they still wanted to preserve a little bit of tradition by not seeing each other in their wedding suits until the moment was there. Once showered and dressed, he presses a small kiss to Louis’ mouth who sleepily blinks up at him and pulls him back in for a longer kiss, murmuring he’ll see him later that day. He plucks Olivia out of bed after that, not bothering with waking her up properly since she’ll have more than enough time to get ready when they’re at Anne’s place.

Gemma arrives when they’re having breakfast together, Anne having gone all out with a large assortment of pastries and what looks like all kinds of bread their local bakery sells, and Olivia clings to her as soon as she walks through the door. Harry smiles at them, loving how close the two of them are, even if Gemma moved away last year to join her boyfriend in Manchester. Gemma presses a wet kiss to his cheek, teasing him about being nervous for his big day before she whisks Olivia away to do her hair and get her into her dress.

Anne tells him it’s time for him to get dressed as well, get rid of the ratty sweats and T-shirt he’s wearing and get his suit on. It takes him only a good ten minutes to get ready, a visit to the hairdresser assuring he only has to get some product in his hair today to make sure it’s nice and curly at his shoulders. Anne tears up when he comes back downstairs from his former bedroom, that now has been changed into her hobby room and busies herself by wiping imaginary lint off his shoulders in an attempt to hide it. He hugs her close, murmuring his thanks for what she’s done for him, and for paying half of his suit. He wanted it so badly, it was beautiful and so  _ him  _ but the price was an unpleasant surprise. He probably shouldn’t have stepped into the store to begin with, but after an entire day of looking for suits, they’d walked by the shop again, and Anne had told him to get that one, because there hadn’t been any other good enough for her boy on his wedding. 

It’s mainly white, which is also the only thing he’d told Louis about it, with a black floral pattern on it, the pant’s legs fitting at his bum and thighs and flaring out around his calves, a fitted jacket with the same pattern on top of his silky black shirt and a black flower at his neck instead of a tie. 

“Daddy you’re so pretty!” Olivia gushes as she runs down the stairs. She’s looking breath taking herself, and Harry has to blink furiously to stop the tears from falling. Her white dress is rather simple, looking a bit vintage and bringing out her bright grey eyes, a colourful flower crown on top of her brown curls.

Robin arrives right on time to drive them over, kissing Anne bashfully before he hugs Harry close. Him and Anne have been together for a couple of months now, and Harry doesn’t think he’s seen his mum this happy in years. It makes him love Robin a lot, and he’s glad he’s there for his wedding. 

 

It’s only a twenty minute drive and traffic is quiet so they’re rather early, and Harry can’t see Jay’s car that would take Louis there yet. He makes use of the spare time to check on everything though, even if Zayn, Nick, Liam and Niall are already there since early morning and assure him everything is going smoothly.The florist is just stepping out of the large white tent when he enters, and after a quick look around he thanks her for her job well done. She simply smiles and wishes him a lovely day before getting into her car and driving off.

Olivia is standing next to him at the entrance of the tent, and her mouth’s wide open. While they opted for a tent with wooden flooring in case the weather would be shitty as it so often is in England, the sides of it are pulled up to give them the perfect view of the field full of wildflowers surrounding the tent. The sun is already high up in the sky and there are poppies, cornflowers and lots more colourful flowers he doesn’t even know the name off waving in the slight breeze. The tent itself is decorated with lots of colourful flower arrangements as well, and he’s still gawking at how beautiful it looks when Zayn hollers that he should go and get to his dressing room because Louis arrived. He presses a quick kiss on Olivia’s cheek and then hurries to a smaller tent at the side that has his name on it. There’s not much in there, just a camping chair, a mirror and a small table holding a bottle of water and some crackers. Harry busies himself with his phone, munching on a cracker even though he’s still full with breakfast, hardly noticing the sounds of their guests trickling in and Louis and Lottie talking in the tent next to his. He looks up when the door of his tent is being pushed away and Lottie smiles at him, taking three steps before she’s close enough to press a kiss to his cheeks. She’s wearing a similar dress to Olivia and Gemma, her hair bleached blonde and curly around her face, a flower crown on top of her head as well. 

“You ready?” she asks him and he smiles nervously as he silences his phone and puts it in his pocket

“‘s it time already?” he questions.

“Five more minutes, but Louis told me the two of you wanted to have a couple of minutes to yourself before stepping out, so… he’s ready if you are.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah.” His nerves spike, but then he thinks that this was indeed what they wanted, take a good look at each other, say hello and get a kiss and a cuddle in before stepping out in front of their friends and family. Lottie smiles at him as she holds the fabric of the tent back for him to easily step out, winking before she takes off in the direction of the main tent where he can hear chatter filling the room. He takes a deep breath and extends his hand, pushing the green canvas of Louis’ dressing room/tent aside to step in. His breath hitches in his throat, as cliché as it is, at the sight in front of him. Louis’s checking the flower in his lapel in the mirror and locks eyes with Harry when he steps inside. 

“Hi,” he breathes and it takes Harry a minute to gather his senses and be able to reply.

“Hi,” comes finally, Louis turning around to direct his smile at his fiancé. He’s trimmed his scruff a bit, giving him a clean yet rough and masculine appearance, his hair’s styled meticulously and he looks positively edible in his charcoal fitted suit with the simple white button up underneath. The blue flower on his lapel seems to electrify the colour of his eyes, and Harry can’t even begin to tell him how beautiful he looks. Louis can obviously tell as much, because he smiles and steps closer, pulling Harry against his chest by fisting his hands in his jacket. 

“You look gorgeous,” he whispers, standing on his tip toes to brush a kiss to Harry’s lips. Suddenly, the moment doesn’t seem so loaded, it’s not The Wedding, but they’re Louis and Harry, and they’re coincidentally getting married today. Harry loves the effect Louis has on him. He grounds him in the purest way, and suddenly the petrifying, paralysing nerves are replaced by an excited flutter in his stomach. He breathes out, and he knows Louis can tell the moment he’s relaxed again. 

“So do you, I love this suit,” Harry brings out before pulling Louis in for another kiss. 

They’re interrupted by Gemma clearing her throat outside the tent. “Hey, I can hear you smooching, your lips are going to look all swollen and red guys,” she sneers, grinning widely when Harry pulls back the canvas, ready to step out. “It’s time, good luck bro,” she winks, hurrying away to her seat so she won’t miss their entrée. 

It’s the one thing they’d given in on, choosing tradition above what they both preferred, and only because they wanted Olivia to have her moment in the spotlight as their flower girl slash maid of honor by walking down the aisle in front of them. They’re walking together though, it would’ve felt wrong in any other way, and Harry smiles at every and all familiar faces he recognises in the crowd. Everyone who matters is there, their families, their friends and co-workers, Harry’s fellow students and teammates from football, Louis’ students and the players from the team.

The ceremony passes by in a blur of kind and loving words, speeches given by their friends and sisters who have found each other as partners in crime and their exchanged vows make their mothers shed a few tears. By the time the reception is in full swing, both their cheeks hurt from smiling so widely and receiving all the kisses, but it doesn’t matter. All around them, people are eating, drinking and dancing, everyone is happy and Olivia is princess of the day, being twirled around by her aunts and taking advantage of the occasion by eating and drinking everything she usually doesn’t get at home. 

 

The three of them only leave in the dead of night, all of them with at least two different flower crowns on their head, and Olivia is out like a light as soon as Louis’ strapped her into her car seat. She doesn’t even wake up when they bring her upstairs to bed and change her dress for her Peanut pajamas. 

Their honeymoon consists of a four day trip to London by train and Olivia’s all excited because she gets to go on the London Eye and they watch the changing of the guard twice during their stay. The trip provides her with stories to tell everyone who wants to listen for months. 

  
  


****

 

It’s on their six month anniversary, a drizzling Monday night mid-November when Louis brings it up for the first time. Olivia’s over at Anne’s for a sleepover and they’d decided to stay in and cook together instead of going out. Harry’s chopping carrots while Louis supervises the boiling potatoes, and he nearly chops off his own finger because of the sudden change of subject. They’d been talking everyday things, like shopping lists and work and uni, and suddenly Louis asks “How about we start trying for another baby?”

It’s not that they haven’t talked about it before. They’ve established a long time ago that they wanted siblings for Olivia, just never when. Louis chuckles when he sees how Harry’s hand falters, then apologises and takes the knife from his hands. “It’s just… Olivia’s going to be six next summer. You’re graduating not long after that. It seems like a good time to add in another baby.”

“Before I start looking for a proper job, you mean?” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He had actually been looking forward to getting a proper job, and the people where he did his internship last year told him he should apply with them when he graduated, but he supposes Louis has a point. It would probably be better and easier to have a baby first and then start a job, instead of getting a job and then go on pregnancy leave soon after. “But what if the pregnancy is difficult this time,” he questions after a minute or so. “I mean, I’ve been lucky in that department with Olivia, I didn’t really feel sick after the first trimester and only had mild discomfort apart from the last couple of weeks. What if I get sick all the time, or if there’s something preventing me from going about as usual? I get what you’re saying, Lou, I honestly do, but I really, really want to graduate this year. I don’t want to postpone it again.” 

They talk about it for a while longer, not only the practical side but also how nice it would be for Olivia to have a baby around, how the both of them would love another child. Over dessert they finally decide to make an appointment with Ayleen, just to talk about it some more and to discuss how to go about it. Harry is okay with that idea, knowing it will take a while before they’ll actively start trying and relieved that they agree not to put too much pressure on it. He doesn’t want sex to become a chore or an obligation in the process of trying to get pregnant. 

 

****

 

February has them sitting down around the table with a frowning Olivia. They’ve told her they want to talk to her, and it’s obvious that the five year old is mentally going over everything that she can possibly have done wrong. Louis gets them all a cup of tea and presses a kiss to Harry’s hair when he clears his throat. 

The appointment with Ayleen was the week before, and she’s confirmed that Harry seems to be perfectly healthy, that he’s still young, and that, besides any medical problems, she doesn’t expect a new pregnancy to be harder or more problematic than Olivia’s. Harry’s been feeling excited about the idea of carrying new life inside him ever since, concerns about his education almost forgotten. Both him and Louis agree that Olivia should have a say in this though, since she’ll be the one having to share her dads and her house with a new baby.

“So uhm, Olive, papa and I had something we wanted to talk to you about…” he starts nervously.

“Is this about the chocolate in the kitchen drawer? Because I swear aunt Gemma said I could take it when she was babysitting me last week.”

Louis snickers. “No, though it’s good to know that we’re going to have to replace your dad’s special cravings’ chocolate, and talk to Gemma.” Olivia turns bright red at revealing her secret, and ducks away when Louis attempts to ruffle her hair. “We wouldn’t sit you down like this for a pack of chocolate though,” he giggles. 

“It’s not about my chocolate no,” Harry smiles. “Olive, you know Gemma was here to babysit you last week because we had an appointment. We wanted to clear some things up first, but now we feel like we should ask you if you’re okay with our plans.”

“Are we moving? I don’t want to move, dad! All my friends live here! You can’t make me come! I’ll stay with grandma Anne, that way I won’t have to change schools!”

“Livvy!” Louis sternly says to interrupt her blabbering. “Stop talking. We’re not moving, just, let us explain for a bit.” Olivia nods. “You know what, I’ll continue, your dad is only making you more nervous with the way he’s beating around the bush.” Harry sticks out his tongue at him, because that’s how grown up they are, but nods nevertheless. “Livvy, your dad and I have always wanted more kids, I think you already know that. You’re almost six now, and your dad is graduating this summer, so we were wondering what you would say if we started trying for another baby soon.”

“You mean I’d get a little sister?” Olivia asks, eyes wide.

“Or a little brother, yes.” Harry nods, smiling softly.

“Oh my god, you guys! Yes! Yes! Yes! I love babies!”

Olivia’s jumping around the table in glee, hugging her dads whenever she passes by and already thinking of names for the baby that isn’t even in the making yet.

 

****

 

Even after all their talking and the time that’s gone over it, it’s weird when they realise they won’t be needing a condom. 

Olivia is at a sleepover with one of her friends from school, so Louis and Harry took the opportunity to organise an old fashioned date night. First, they had dinner in a quiet new restaurant in town, and have been kissing lazily on their bed ever since coming home half an hour ago. It’s nice like this, Louis thinks, just lying there, kissing and caressing each other like they’ve got all the time in the world. Which, well, it definitely seems that way when there’s no chance at a five year old barging into their room because she had a nightmare or she’s suddenly afraid of the dragon on the poster above her bed. 

He almost doesn’t realise that it gets more and more heated, only when he sits up to pull his shirt over his head, too lazy to unbutton it all the way down and finds Harry half naked in front of him, watching him with hungry eyes. It’s all lust and heat from then off. He dives on top of his husband, pushing him back down onto the mattress, and attacks his mouth. Their teeth clash while their tongues slide against each other in a sloppy kiss. Louis can’t help pressing his hips down into Harry’s, feeling his excitement grow in time with his own while their hands roam each other’s body. Harry’s fingers are spread on the small of Louis’ back, pulling him impossibly closer, while Louis’ one hand is knotting in Harry’s long hair, the other moving up and down along his ribs. Doing this always makes Harry either giggle because he’s ticklish, or hot in less than a second. Seems like tonight is the second option. 

Louis leans down, leaving Harry’s lips for a minute to suck a lovely red mark into the soft skin of Harry’s neck. He cants his hips up, letting out a low moan that shoots right to Louis’ core. He bites down on the bruise he just caused, soothing the pain with his tongue only a second later. Harry moves one of his hands, shoving it down the waistband of Louis’ black skinnies to grip his arse and press their hips together. Louis whines high in his throat at the way Harry’s hand massages his flesh and starts chanting something indiscernible about needing to take their pants off. He sits up and makes quick work of his own, unable to take advantage of the way Harry eyes him when he shoves the jeans down his thighs, his own thumbs hooked behind his waistband but too lazy to do anything more. 

 

If he wasn’t as turned on as he is right now, his cock straining against the white cotton of his briefs and throbbing like crazy, he would probably turn around and make a show of it, turn it into a proper striptease with a lapdance included. He has incredibly fond (okay, maybe not fond, hot might be a better word) memories of some of those nights. But tonight isn’t one of them. Tonight is hotter, more urgent and more about pleasing than it is about teasing. As soon as he’s freed himself of his jeans, he crawls back onto the bed and kneels over Harry’s hips to make work of his fly. His mouth waters as soon as he lowers the zipper, realising why Harry didn’t take off his own pants earlier. His beautiful cock is hard and straining against soft black lace. He’s wearing the knickers Louis bought him for his birthday and he looks absolutely edible in them. The bright red of his nailpolish contrasts beautifully against the black fabric and Louis has to keep himself from ravishing him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whines instead, shuffling backwards over Harry’s legs to pull of his trousers. He doesn’t take his eyes from Harry’s crotch where his long, slim fingers are moving along the thick stripe of his cock, all the way from the base to where his tip is creating a damp patch in the fabric. 

“I thought you’d like it,” Harry smirks, his low and hoarse voice betraying his own arousal. 

“I fucking love it,” Louis all but growls, flattening himself on top of Harry once more to kiss him deeply while grinding down on him. 

It goes quickly from there, Louis sits up to remove his pants and all but pouts when he strips Harry of the lace knickers, leaning down to give his head a kitten lick before he reaches for the supplies in Harry’s bedside table. There’s a strip of anticonception in the drawer, lying about unused since they agreed Harry’d stop taking them, and a strip of condoms next to it. Louis takes them out, together with the fresh bottle of lube and bites his lip.

“Don’t suppose we’ll be needing these anytime soon then, huh?” He asks, a grin slowly forming on his lips.

Harry shakes his head, a wonderful blush high on his cheeks. “Nope, we’re actually doing this,” he grins back. 

Louis needs a minute to breathe, because wow… Harry had always been on anticonception since they started having sex regularly, but just to be sure, they always went double dutch. Well, there were a few exceptions, but Louis can still count them on one hand. And now, starting tonight, they aren’t taking any precautions. They are officially trying to have a baby.

The air suddenly feels hotter, heavier as he kneels between Harry’s legs, hitching them up by the knees so he has perfect view of Harry’s hole. Louis runs his thumb from the back of Harry’s balls, down down down down, until it hitches behind the fluttering muscle. Harry throws his head back, gasping at the sensation. It keeps amazing Louis how  _ responsive  _ his husband is. He presses a soft kiss to his rim and reaches for the bottle of lube, applying it generously to his fingers before tossing the bottle to the side again. 

Prepping Harry is a work of art. As soon as his first finger breaks through the resistance of the muscle, Harry is reduced to a writhing mess, fucking down on Louis’ finger as he fists his hands in the sheet. It never takes long for him to start begging for more, and today isn’t an exception. Soon enough, Louis is fucking into him with three fingers, scissoring him open as quickly as he possibly can. Prepping Harry just never leaves him unaffected, and he wants to fuck into him as soon as possible. 

“Come on, get in already,” Harry whines, somehow succeeding in producing a semi-full sentence despite the state he’s in. 

Louis leans down to capture his lips in a sloppy kiss, scrabbling for the lube with one hand. “I love you,” he sighs and Harry simply smiles back. He takes the lube from him, apparently deciding he’s taking too long, and squirts a generous amount in his palm before tossing the bottle out of sight, wrapping his hand around Louis and quickly smearing the cold liquid all over his length. “Come on, come on, come on,” he chants as he maneuvers them so that Louis is between his legs once more, lining up to push inside. 

They both want to make it last, but it’s a lost cause to begin with. They’re so riled up that it only takes a couple of thrusts before they’re both panting loudly, already teetering on the edge. Harry’s brow is shiny with sweat and his eyes are mostly closed now, mouth o-shaped as he wraps his ankles together behind Louis’ back, pulling him in even closer. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Louis mutters, blowing his wilted fringe off his forehead before grinding hard, making Harry scream when he hits his prostate.

“‘m so close, Lou, please, please,” he pleads, opening his eyes for Louis to see how blown his pupils are. There’s only a tiny ridge of the green of his irises visible around them. Louis nods, changing his position so he has one hand free to wrap it around Harry, capturing his length in between their stomachs as he leans down, needing to kiss Harry as he fucks them into oblivion. 

Harry’s first to come, though it takes Louis every bit of effort he can muster not to let go before that, and the way he clenches around him while he fucks him through his orgasm doesn’t do much good to it. Harry’s blissed out when he finally lets go, shooting into him in what feels like the best climax in his life.

“I love the feeling of you coming inside me,” Harry mutters when he’s recovered a bit, shuffling around so they can comfortably snuggle up. They’re a mess, but cleaning up can wait.

“Hmm, no need to use a condom when you’re pregnant, so I think we can make good use of your raised appetite this time around,” Louis smiles, earning him a slap between the shoulder blades. 

“Fuck off!” Harry sneers. “But yeah, I suppose you’re right. Maybe we should think about sound proofing our room, wouldn’t want to traumatise Olive.” A sly smile takes over his face.

Louis snorts. “She sleeps just like you, a bomb could go off next to her head and she wouldn’t even notice.”

 

****

 

They’ve only been trying for three months, but Harry is sick of it already. Not of the sex, of course not, but of the disappointment. Every time, both he and Louis get up early to grab one of those stupid plastic pee sticks. They sit at the kitchen table together, staring at one pink line for five minutes and praying for another one to appear. It never does.

 

****

 

There’s never a second line in month four, five or six either, and Harry has started applying for jobs after all, gotten a few interim jobs to fill his days and months. 

Rationally, he knows that Olivia was a lucky shot. It wasn’t very realistic to think that he’d be pregnant on the first try again, but he’d still hoped for it. He’s starting to get desperate and made Louis promise they’d make another appointment with Ayleen to find out if anything is wrong with either of them if they’re still not pregnant next month. 

It’s not like the sex has turned into a chore. They both enjoy it a lot, luckily, but the planning of it, the need to have sex when he’s most fertile is weighing on them. Sometimes, when they’re both tired, had a busy day, had a lot of trouble getting Olivia into bed, they just want to sleep. But then again, they don’t want to waste an opportunity to get pregnant. So sleeping is postponed for quick sex, just enough to do what’s needed to make babies, and then they both drift off, too tired to even clean up properly. 

 

Louis was so tired the night before, and didn’t even wake up from both his and Harry’s alarmclock. Harry decides to let him sleep, doesn’t want to let himself hope anymore, and he can watch the plastic stick on his own just as well. It’s the last one in the box, and he makes a mental note to buy more for next month while he pees on it. He brushes his teeth, feeling slightly sick when the toothpaste gets on his tongue. He hopes he hasn’t caught the stomach bug Olivia had last week, and waits for the five minutes to be over. There’s still three minutes left when he takes it to the kitchen, putting it on the counter while he starts preparing their breakfast. 

Once the tea is brewing, he grabs the stick, throwing a quick look on it before taking it to the bin, until…

“Fuck…” he whispers, blinking furiously and pinching his arm, which hurts like a bitch, to make sure he’s seeing correctly. He still sees the same thing though and he runs as fast as he can on socked feet, barging into their bedroom where Louis sits on the edge of the bed. He looks all soft and sleepy with his glasses on and he opens his mouth, probably to ask why Harry didn’t wake him but Harry beats him to it, shoving the plastic stick under his nose.

His eyes widen and his mouth falls open when he sees it. 

“There’s… you’re…? Is this…? Oh my god,” he finally sighs.

“There’s two lines.” Harry confirms. “It was the last one though, so I think I’m going to pop over to the drug store after work and take some more, just to be sure.”

Louis grins, getting up to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck. “We’re pregnant,” he breathes.

“Well, yes, we might be.” Harry replies, not wanting to get his hopes up in case the test is faulty for some reason. It happens, okay?

“Just- Just let us be happy for now, okay? I think we deserve to be happy about this. I know the test can be wrong, and even if it isn’t, there’s still a lot of things that can go wrong, but just… Let’s be happy for a bit?” Louis asks, his thumbs smoothing over the worry lines in Harry’s forehead before cupping his jaw. 

Harry sighs, but finally nods. “Okay, happy for now,” he confirms, pressing a kiss to Louis’ lips before their usual morning routine starts up. He can already hear Olivia’s alarm clock beeping from her room.

 

Harry still remembers vividly how the lady behind the counter had looked at him and Louis 7 years ago. He was only a teenager, scared as hell to find out what those tests would tell him, and the disapproving stare the woman had given him hadn’t really helped. 

This time, there’s at least as many tests in his basket when he hands it to the cashier, but he’s met with a sympathetic smile as she rings him up and he can’t help but grin at her when she quietly wishes him good luck. 

They wait until Olivia is in bed to retreat into the bathroom, retrieving the plastic bag from under the sink where Harry’d hidden it when he got home. He pees in a cup, and they go ahead opening the boxes and taking the tests. There’s at least fifteen plastic sticks surrounding them and within three minutes they all have plus signs, double pink lines and one even has a flashing digital display telling them he’s four to five weeks pregnant. 

Louis sends an email to Ayleen for their first appointment immediately, while they’re sitting on the bathroom floor, and they only get up after fifteen minutes of kissing and cuddling. Celebratory ice cream is only fitting, Harry decides, so the rest of their evening is spent on the couch, watching a romantic comedy that’s on TV while they share a large tub of Ben and Jerry’s. 

 

****

 

Once Ayleen has seen them for the first appointment and given them the all clear in combination with the ultrasound that showed a small shrimp with a heartbeat, they decide it’s time to tell Olivia about her sibling that is on the way. 

They’ve both taken the day off at work, so they drive over to Olivia’s school to pick her up after they spent the afternoon shopping. They’ve given most of Olivia’s baby clothes and other things away in lack of room to keep it, so it’s a great excuse for many, many shopping trips. The trunk of the car is full of shopping bags, filled to the brim with some paternity clothes, but mostly cute onesies, little hats and socks, toys and so on. Olivia raises an eyebrow at Louis when he opens the trunk to put her backpack in there, but he shrugs and winks at her, not telling anything until they’re at home. 

Harry smiles tiredly when she frowns at him, finding a whole bunch of plush toys in the bag she carried upstairs. He’d forgotten how horribly tired he had been the first weeks of his first pregnancy, and it’s by far the most annoying symptom. The hardest one to hide as well, though he’s definitely trying by going to bed as soon as Olivia’s gone to sleep and only getting up at the last possible moment before going to work. He’s been taking naps at the weekend as well, but usually when Olivia’s at volleyball practice or at her girl scouts meeting so she wouldn’t question it. 

“Sit down, Olive, papa and I have something to talk to you about,” he gently tells her, pulling her down on the couch in between him and Louis. “So uhm, you know how we asked you last winter if you’d be alright with us having a baby?”

Olivia’s eyes go wide, already understanding where the conversation is heading. 

“We went to see the midwife today, and she confirmed that I’m pregnant, so if everything goes well, you’ll be a big sister sometime next July.” 

“You’re having a baby! Oh daddy! Can I see your stomach?” Olivia squeals. Harry pulls up his shirt, but of course there’s not much to see yet, just a tiny tummy bulging over his waistband, but only if you squint. 

“Livvy-lovvy, we also wanted to tell you that this means we’ll be looking at bigger flats and houses. We know you want to stay at your school, and both daddy and I work in this area as well, so we’ll be looking in the neighbourhood,” Louis adds. “But this flat only has two bedrooms and while the baby won’t need its own room in the beginning, we need some extra space.”

Olivia nods seriously. “Can I tell grandma Anne and Robin? Oh! And we’ve got to call grandma Jay and Dan too!” Both Louis and Harry chuckle at her antics. Louis pulls her into his chest as he explains to her that they’ll tell the rest of their families over the Holidays, when they’re past the twelve week-mark. It’ll be their little secret for just a little while longer.

 

****

 

Harry is his first day back at work, a substitute position as a social worker in foster child services, after the Holidays, when Ellen, his boss calls him into his office.

“Hey, Harry, have a seat,” the blonde woman tells him when he knocks the glass door of her office. “I wanted to talk to you, because you’re on a substitute contract right now, for another three months, I think?”

Harry nods.

“Right. Well, I might have good news for you then. Leanne has told me right before Christmas that she won’t be coming back because she’s found a job closer to home, and we’ve been very happy with your work, so if you want, the position is yours, permanently.”

“Oh.” Harry swallows.

“You- you don’t seem happy? I thought you liked this job, was I wrong?” Ellen asks him.

“No, no! I do like this job, a lot. I think I like it best out of all the substitute positions I’ve had over the past year, it’s just… I actually wanted to come and talk to you myself today because uhm, I’m pregnant?”

Ellen smiles. “You don’t seem entirely sure about it?”

Harry smiles back, relieved that she doesn’t seem mad or anything. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure of it, very sure, I just thought I’d let you know, for like, insurance purposes and so on. I never expected to be offered a permanent position here, or at least not today.” 

“But you do want the position?”

“Well, yeah, I’d love it, if you still want me to have it now that you know you’ll need a replacement for me during my pregnancy leave.” Harry answers.

Ellen confirms that yes, they do want him to take the job, and they’ll deal with finding a replacement when the time is there.

“Oh and Harry?” she calls right before he opens the door to walk out.

“Yeah?”

“Congratulations!”

 

****

 

With Harry’s permanent contract at work comes more financial security (and a small raise), so their house hunting is back in full swing all through January and February. There’s not much to their liking on the market though, everything that’s put up for sale is either too small, or too old and badly maintained. They don’t want to have to move when Harry’s almost due though, so they’re thinking of just staying where they are for another while and start searching again once the baby really needs its own space. 

They haven’t really gone on sightings for a couple of weeks when Anne calls them on a sunny evening in March. Apparently, she’s seen a house for sale on her way back from work, within their budget, and at least on the outside it looked nice and large enough. She rattles off the phone number, and Louis calls them as soon as Harry hung up on Anne, anxiously picking his jeans while he waits for the phone to be picked up.

He gets an appointment for the next evening, and since Anne is working and Robin has a meeting of his beer tasting club, Olivia tags along. 

The woman who seems to be living in the house now looks about 80 and is really sweet to them. She tells Olivia that she’s as pretty as her dads, and doesn’t mind if she runs around the different bedrooms on the second floor. Anne was right, the house is really nice and is more than large enough for their family, with its four bedrooms, an attic for storage, two bathrooms and an extra toilet downstairs. There’s a large garden as well, for which the old lady apologises. It had always been her husband’s hobby, but he’s passed away a couple of years ago and nature has taken over. They don’t mind though, it looks beautiful, right at the beginning of spring, with lots of wildflowers and high grass. It won’t take much effort to fix it into something they can sit in this summer. 

The only thing that needs to be fixed is the electricity, but a quick phone call to Dan learns Louis that he’d be able to do that, or at least find someone to do it at a reasonable rate if he can’t fix it himself. 

They look at each other, standing in front of the french doors leading into the garden, and nod almost unnoticeably.

“Well, mrs. Jennings,” Louis speaks up. “We’ll call our bank tomorrow to get their agreement, but I don’t think that will be a problem. We would love buying your house.”

Mrs. Jennings smiles at them, ruffling Olivia’s hair a little. “Good, I think you’ll be happy here, dears.”

 

They move in as soon as all the paperwork is done, right before Olivia’s seventh birthday and their second wedding anniversary. Olivia’s thrilled to have a BBQ in their own backyard for it, with all their families and friends present, as well as some friends from school. Harry feels like he’s much bigger than he used to be with Olivia around this time in his pregnancy, has been since the beginning, but it doesn’t really bother him as much. He has the luxury of having a husband and a daughter who dote on him and make sure he’s comfortable at all times, and the way Louis looks at him, with stars in his eyes and hearts all around his head, makes up for all possible discomfort. 

 

Their last ultrasound comes sooner than they’d expected, having been too busy with moving houses and getting everything arranged in time. They didn’t want to know the baby’s gender this time either, but they’re kind of nervous for their appointment with Ayleen for another reason. Harry’s rather certain that the baby will be alright, he’s learned to trust his gut feeling about it, and even though he always gets butterflies when they’re about to know for sure, his nerves today are for an entirely different reason. 

 

Ayleen is running a bit late, calling them inside half an hour after their original appointment and she apologises profusely. It doesn’t really matter though, since they’ve brought Olivia along for the ultrasound part of the appointment, so it’s not like they need to be home on time for the babysitter. They’ve asked her to wait outside for the time being, not wanting to get her hopes up about what they need to discuss with Ayleen until they know it’s a real possibility. 

The thing is, now that they’ve moved into their new house, there’s plenty of room. They’ve got a playroom for Olivia downstairs, and the living room is absolutely massive, even without including the open kitchen in it. And that’s only downstairs. So, with all the space available, Harry had started dreaming of a home birth. 

Olivia’s birth had been good, he loved the way Ayleen had handled it, and even though it had of course been painful, he only held good memories. Except for the ride to hospital. He would’ve loved being able to stay at home longer, not having to fold himself into a car and sit still for the ride while all he wanted to do was move around against the pain. It had taken a couple of weeks of thinking and dreaming before he mentioned it to Louis, not sure how his husband would react. He should’ve known though, with Jay being the passionate midwife and Louis being every bit as enthusiastic about birth and babies as his mum, that he would love the idea of welcoming their baby in the comfort of their own home, with Olivia nearby if she wants to, but with the possibility to stay with family or a babysitter if she doesn’t. 

Ayleen merely smiles when they mention it. “Of course it’s a possibility. You’ve got no complications up to this point in your pregnancy and I don’t expect any to come along either. The only thing I need is for you to meet Erica. She’s my colleague who I do all home births together with, and I usually find that people are more comfortable when they’ve met the both of us, which makes the deliveries easier and less complicated. I could set you up for an appointment with her next time if you’d like?”

 

Harry feels butterflies in his stomach at the idea of being able to have his dream, and when he puts his hand on his stomach, the baby seems to agree. They’re kicking against his hand, turning over to do the same to Louis’ when he puts his on the other side. It’s a game they’ve taken up recently, and they’ve discovered that Olivia has the best connection. No matter if she’s first or last to put her hand, or the position she puts it in, she always gets the baby to turn towards her and stay with her. They always joke that the two of them are going to be absolute menaces together, though Louis’ not so sure it’s only a joke.

As soon as they’ve talked some more about the necessities they have to buy in order to have a home birth, Ayleen sends them through to Jack for their ultrasound, Olivia jumping up from her chair in the waiting room as soon as Louis calls her in. They’ve decided to tell her about the possibility for a home birth in the next couple of days, when they’ve figured it all out a bit further themselves. 

Harry’s not sure where to look first when Jack does his magic to show the baby on the screen. Of course he was looking forward to seeing them again, but watching Olivia’s face when she sees them live for the very first time is magnificent. Her jaw drops even further when Jack pushes a button to activate 4D-view, and she coos when they see the baby playing hide and seek behind its little hand that’s clasped over its eyes. 

“Still don’t want to know what gender to expect, I suppose?” Jack checks and Olivia only grumbles a little bit when her fathers confirm that they still want to be surprised. 

 

****

 

June is hot. Hot enough for Harry to complain that he never ever ever wants to be pregnant again, or at least not during the summer. He’s taken all his vacation before his pregnancy leave starts, so he’s home almost the entire month. It’s a good thing too, because his ankles are swollen and he feels like a stranded whale. Louis’ drowning in work at school, with finals coming up and a few guys on his team need recommendations for football teams at university, as well as he’s been given a biology class this year so he needs to teach and test and correct exams. That means that normally Harry would be the one to take Olivia to school every morning and pick her up again every afternoon, but a mother who spotted him on his first day off took pity and offered to take her with her, since their house in on the way anyway. “I’ve got four kids born in August and September, I know how you feel,” she said, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s forever grateful and plans to have a large bouquet of roses and a magnum bottle of champagne delivered to her when school’s out. 

He’s lying on a sunbed under the largest umbrella the garden center sold, when Olivia finds him after school. She’s got her own key now, and she couldn’t be prouder. She’s already changed into her bathing suit, assures him she has no homework due the next day as she passes by to kiss him hello before jumping into the small kiddie pool. He waves her over after half an hour, wiggling the bottle of sunscreen at her to make it clear that she really needs to get out of the pool. He doesn’t spray her in before pulling her close though, wanting to take advantage of the cold water she’s just come out. 

“It’s not long now, dad,” she comforts them. “And papa said the weather will probably change when school’s out in two weeks.”

Harry chuckles. “He only says that because he’s frustrated that he’s stuck at school in this weather Olive.”

She shrugs and sticks up her finger as if she just remembered something. Before he can question anything, she’s running off towards the house. She steps back outside after five minutes, balancing a tray with a carafe filled with freshly made lemonade, two glasses, an ice bucket filled with ice cubes and a family pack of green olives. It’s been his one big craving throughout the pregnancy, providing fuel for many Olivia-Olive-you’re eating our daughter-jokes for the last six months. Her skin glows white as the sun reflects off the sunscreen, and she wipes sweat of her forehead as she sits down on the grass next to him. It’s the one moment each day that belongs to the two of them, that allows them to chat or play a game, or think of names for the baby. It’s not that they don’t do that when Louis’ home, but just them, a little daddy-daughter time is still special to them, especially with a baby on the way that will no doubt take up most of Harry’s time. 

When they’ve discussed Olivia’s day at school, shared the silliest baby names they could think off and Olivia’s sprayed Harry with some cold water from the pool to cool them off, they’re left with nothing else to do until Louis arrives. He should’ve been home already, but apparently there’s an emergency meeting about some kids cheating on their finals so he’s delayed for at least an hour. Harry should probably get up soon and either prepare them dinner or call for take away, but he can’t be bothered just yet. Olivia’s coaxed him to moving off his sunbed onto the grass with her, he folds his legs under him the best he can, his stomach resting on his thighs while Olivia moves to sit behind him. She’s procured a brush and some hair bands from somewhere and starts combing through his thick curls. Much like last pregnancy, his hair is growing at record speed and it’s gotten thicker and curlier. Olivia loves to play with it, often braiding it or creating a dozen small buns all over his head. It’s not like he minds, he’s always liked his hair being played with and the fact that it keeps her busy with minimal effort is an extra benefit.

Louis calls him when about half his hair is pulled into at least five fishtail braids, asking if he needs to pick anything up on his way home. Harry thanks him profusely for his foresight and asks to bring Thai. And another box of green and black olives from Tesco’s.

“There’s another family pack of olives in the fridge, love” Louis reminds him.

“Yeah, no, not anymore. In fact, make that two boxes. And a bottle of virgin caipirinha, that was delicious!” Harry replies, not even slightly ashamed.

Louis snickers at him. “Alright love, see you in a bit. Tell Livvy to shower and put on her pajamas or it’ll be way past her bedtime again.”

Harry sighs, and he can practically hear Louis roll his eyes at him. “Even if she’s braiding your hair right now. I promise I’ll finish what she started. And if you’re good, I might even throw in an extra special treatment.”

“Don’t say things like that when I’m  _ this  _ pregnant and I’m only wearing my trunks. You know what my hormones do to me.”

“Oh yes, love, I’m very well aware. Later!” Louis answers airily, hanging up before Harry can reply. 

He grumbles at his phone and then leans back to look at his daughter. “Olive, papa said to tell you to shower and get dressed for bed. He’ll bring dinner.”

Olivia groans but gets up anyway, mumbling something about her daddy being more fun because he tends to forget about the time.

 

****

 

The baby shower is a very last minute affair. They didn’t even really plan on having one, but Lottie, the future godmother, and Zayn, future godfather, have teamed up to change their mind, and that’s how they end up in their garden, gathered underneath three small party tents halfway through July. While June had been warm, promising a lovely summer, July is hot and moist. If Harry thought surviving the first heat wave last month was an accomplishment, he had no idea what July had in store for him. He wants nothing more than get rid of his bump and all the fluid he’s holding, he’s sick of the warmth and the discomfort it causes him. 

Today brought pouring rain, bringing a very welcome cool down along with it. Temperatures had risen up to 40 degrees Celcius in the last week, and Harry spent almost all his days entirely in the small kiddie pool in their garden. Today’s a bit better though, as it was even bearable to put on a T-shirt when their guests arrived. 

They didn’t invite a lot of people, just both of their close relatives, Niall, Liam, Zayn and Nick and their respective partners. Still, with how large Louis’ family is, their garden is filled with happy chatter and laughter, Olivia flitting around and enjoying the attention she gets from the guests who all adore her. 

They’re halfway through a game that’s supposed to tell their baby’s gender when Louis notices how Harry winces uncomfortably. He tries to catch his gaze, but when he finally manages, the pained expression has vanished and Harry shakes his head slightly and smiles comfortingly. He sees it again when his youngest sister climbs on his lap, asking Harry a question which he doesn’t answer right away. It’s not even five minutes later, and the pain seems to last longer.

“Harry?” he questions, making his husband look up at him. His hands have moved from the top of his stomach to the underside, supporting it and when Louis puts his own hand on top of his large belly, he frowns at how hard it feels. “You want to go inside?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, it’s okay for now. It’ll probably take a while before it really goes through. We’ve had three false alarms already, Lou.”

“You sure you don’t want me to get them out?”

“Yeah, positive. Everyone’s having fun, Olive too. Let them. We can still ask them to leave if it gets worse.”

“Okay,” Louis frowns, not entirely convinced. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles, getting up out of his seat to walk around for a bit. He rolls his eyes at Louis’ frown, but he can’t help it. Especially with this urge to move around, Louis is not very confident that it’s another false start to labour. 

Somehow, he manages to lose track of him after all, and goes looking for him half an hour later. He finds him after a couple of minutes, perched against the fridge in the kitchen. It’s the coolest place in the entire house, and Louis can easily tell he’s in labour from the way he’s leaning his arms against the wall next to the fridge, his forehead pressed to the metal door to seek a bit of refreshment. He moves quickly, takes a cold pack from the freezer and fills a tupperware container with ice cubes and hands them both to Harry. 

“Here, I’ll get them all out through the gate. You still okay with Olivia being around?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Harry breathes. Louis nods and quickly makes his way back outside. “Lou!”

“Yeah?”

“Call Ayleen as well, this feels like it’s going to be a lot quicker than with Olive.”

“Okay,” he nods, continuing on his way. It proves to be quite hard to get everyone out through the side gate. They’ve all caught on what’s happening, of course, and the excitement is hard to contain. Finally, they’re all gone, except for Olivia, who looks a bit lost now that the party is done and she doesn’t know what to expect from the birth. 

“Fuck.” Louis breathes as he comes back inside, finding Harry breathing harshly. He’s called Ayleen and she’s on her way, but this seems to be changing even faster than he had expected. He thinks quickly and then dashes for the front door, catching Jay right as she gets behind the wheel of their family car. “Mum!” he cries, effectively catching her attention. He jogs out, reaching her side quickly and explains what’s going on. 

“Okay, I’m staying, at least until Ayleen gets here,” Jay decides. “Lottie, here’s the keys, get your sisters and brother home safely, call Dan to let him know I’m needed here so he gets home on time.” Lottie looks pleased she gets to drive but pauses to press a kiss for good luck to Louis’ cheek before she gets behind the wheel.

 

Once they’re back inside, Louis shows Jay where they keep the supplies Ayleen made them buy and then makes quick work of putting up the birthing pool they’ve rented while his mum tends to Harry. The pool is filling up just fives minutes later, and he finds Harry leaning on the kitchen counter, having changed into a long T-shirt, his shorts dumped on the living room floor. He’s still breathing heavily, looks as if he’s in a lot of pain, and Louis centers himself in order to remain as calm as he possibly can. He can’t panic, not when Harry looks like he might be well on his way to start doing exactly that. 

“Lou! Where’s Ayleen? I need Ayleen! This hurts so much!” Harry whines, taking another ice cube to suck on. 

“She’s on her way love, she said it would probably take her half an hour at least though, she was in the city.”

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Harry screams, another contraction wrecking his body.

“Do you want me to check, love?” Jay asks him when the worst of the pain seems to have subsided. Louis bites his bottom lip, because it’s a bit weird, but then again, maybe the exam will reassure Harry that everything’s alright. 

Harry looks up, a wild look in his eyes and his hair a sweaty mess. It seems like he needs to think about this as well but after a couple of seconds he nods. “Yeah, yeah, this is going too fast,” he manages to breathe out while Louis helps him to stand up straight so they can walk to the couch together. 

He lies down, feet pulled up and fists under his bum so it’s as easy as possible for Jay to do the internal exam. He doesn’t even flinch when she pushes inside, her gloved hands covered in lots of lube. Louis’ slightly amazed at how much of a professional she is, considering this is her own grandchild announcing its arrival. 

“Alright,” she tells him while feeling around with a look of concentration on her face. “I can see why you feel like it’s going fast, Harry. You’re already, 6, maybe 7 centimeters dilated, and I can feel the membranes bulging. I don’t have a doptone with me, but I’m guessing the baby is alright. At this rate, it won’t be long.”

The doorbell rings as soon as she’s pulling off her gloves, indicating Ayleen’s arrival. Louis opens the door for her, leaving the two midwives to brief about the situation while he sits down at Harry’s head, combing his hair back and keeping an eye on the water in the pool that’s almost to the indicated filling line. “Do you want to get in, love?” Louis asks him and Harry nods, bracing himself as he feels another contraction coming up. 

“His hurts so much Lou, I don’t remember it hurting this much,” he whines softly and there’s not much Louis can do except kiss him and squeeze his hand. It mostly seems like he doesn’t get much time to recuperate between contractions, and he can definitely imagine how that makes it bad. 

“Harry, I called Erica, but she’s not going to be here sooner than an hour. I’ve discussed this with Jay, and if you’re okay with it, she’s going to stay and assist me with the birth.” Ayleen interrupts his thoughts and wow. Does this mean they expect the baby to be here  _ that _ quickly. Of course they were warned that second babies often come quicker than first, but they hadn’t expected it to be this soon. 

“‘S fine,” Harry grinds out between his teeth, rolling to his side on the couch, obviously uncomfortable with lying on his back. “I wanna get into the water.”

The three of them work quickly to do just that, they help him step over the edge and sit down. “Get my shirt off Lou, I don’t like the way it sticks to my stomach!” Harry demands and Louis does just that. “And get Olivia, want her around.” He nods and hurries outside, where Olivia’s taken a seat at a table with her crayons and her newest colouring book. She looks nervous and excited when she enters the living room, but she seems to sense the serenity that is surrounding Harry now that he’s in the water. It surprises even Louis a bit, while Harry had still seemed worked up when he’d gone to get Olivia, the man in the birthing pool seems in an entirely different state of mind. He seems to float in the water, and it’s as if he hardly even notices the people around him. He hums through his contractions now, apparently more able to endure them while in the pool, and around it Jay and Ayleen are working together to prepare everything for the baby. Ayleen checks for the baby’s heart beat every half hour, but as long as that sounds strong, she leaves him alone. Until he starts groaning that is.

“Are you feeling pressure, Harry?” She asks quietly, smiling gently when he nods. “Can I feel just once, check if you can push along with your contractions?”

Harry nods and pulls his legs up once more, granting her access for the exam and smiling widely to meet Ayleen’s smile as she nods at him. “It’s time love, you can push if you feel like it.”

“Lou?” Louis looks up from where he’s on the couch next to Olivia, colouring along with her to keep busy and distracted since it didn’t seem like Harry needed him. “Can you get in with me please?”

“Of course love,” he nods and runs upstairs to get his swimming trunks so he can slip in behind Harry, allowing him to lean back against him and squeeze his hands with every push. 

He remember the pushing took nearly an hour with Olivia, so he’s more than a bit surprised when Jay tells them she can see the baby’s head after only fifteen minutes. 

“You want to feel it Harry?” Ayleen asks, and at his confirmation, she takes his hand and guides it between his legs, renewing his strength when he can feel soft and wet hair. 

“His water’s broke then?” Louis asks, because somehow he had missed that. 

Ayleen nods and hums in confirmation.“Yeah, about an hour ago, not long after he stepped into the bath. Hold on now Harry, soft push… yep, the head is out, hold off the pushing for a bit.” 

Louis cranes his neck to be able to see, and sure enough, he sees a head of light brown hair appear when Ayleen twists the shoulders out and tells Harry to pick up  their baby. He reaches down between his legs, twisting his face in pain once more before he can pull it up to his chest, cradling it in his arms as he kisses the little face over and over again, murmuring sweet nothings while big eyes blinks up at them. 

“It’s a boy,” Jay announces after a minute or so, after she and Ayleen have assured themselves that the fact that the baby’s not making a sound is not a bad thing, and Louis feels himself grinning. “Congratulations, loves.”

 

An hour later, Harry’s taken a shower and the entire family, now a family of four, is huddled together on the couch while Ayleen and Jay are cleaning up the last things that remind of the miracle that has just taken place in their living room. 

Olivia can’t keep her eyes off her baby brother, and it’s not like Harry and Louis can blame her. He’s beautiful. He has Harry’s eyes and Louis’ nose, and he even scrunches it up just like Louis does. It’s so magical to see a mixture of the both of them in this tiny creature.

“What are you going to call him?” Ayleen asks, putting away the last of her things.

Olivia looks up at them and as soon as she receives a nod of the both of them, she announces proudly “Sebastian.”

Louis looks around him and feels happy, and mostly grateful. For having found his Harry, all these years ago, for being allowed to be Olivia’s papa, and for having created this little wonder together with the man he loves. Sebastian makes their family complete. For now, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to hit me up on Tumblr, my user name's the same since I'm the most original creature to have ever existed.


End file.
